A Lost Tale
by Nefertity
Summary: When two soulmates find eachother, it sparks a chain of events the Night World has never seen. Only the question is, will they survive?(pls RR)
1. Prologue

**A Lost Tale:**

****

**Disclaimer****:** Do you know what? I'm not Lisa Jane Smith! Yeah, weird, ain't it? But because of that, I can't say I own the themes (although LJS really stole them from _me_ – she did! *earnest expression*) but all characters in this story are MINE!! But, you know, the various lyrics are not mine….

**Author's Note**: Lovely little story of mine. It's the not so classic bad-boy-falls-for-bad-girl-who-then-get-chased-by-badder-people. Cool, eh? But please won't you help me by **reviewing** so I can make it even better! Oh, do, please, please?

**Enjoy:**

**A Lost Tale:**

**Prologue:**

I sigh, a little one escaping from me. I seldom sigh; to me it's a sign of weakness. To me a lot of things are signs of weaknesses.

   Who am I?

Your worst nightmare. A monster. Cruel. Inhuman. Some even have used the word Evil, though I dont think so. You have no idea of true Evil. Humans throw that word far too easily around. You, my dear readers, would die from shock if you ever laid your eyes on true Evil. Your heart would speed up, the blood would pound in your ears, and then you would just stop, mind and heart as one.

  Why am I telling you this?

I dont know. But my tale has come to an end, and I feel a certain need to get this tale of my chest. It has become tiresome, carrying it around. I have lived far and wide, and for a very long time. I am tired, but it's a content sort of tiredness. Yes, I use the word 'content' and not 'happy'. I dont know what the word means, though I think this comes close, very close and maybe someday soon will turn into happiness.

My tale?

You're impatient, dear reader, and that was the humans' first mistake, was it not? It is how we came into existence. Humans are like children; spoilt, impatient, always wanting what is not good for them, not meant for them. Except that time, that fatal time, you went a bit further than wanting, did you not? 

Oh not you personally, but your ancestor. The one whose blood runs trough your veins also. 

You do not understand.

It is okay. That is another mistake the humans make; they do not understand. And often, what they do not understand, they pretend it does not exist, does not matter. The third mistake. And I could go on, into tonight and tomorrow, and the day after and the day after, for years and years to come, counting up the innumerable different mistakes you humans are so good at making.

You are looking confused, my dear readers.

It is okay. I was just testing you, anyway. It does not matter whether you understand or not, for you will never be able to retell this tale to another living soul. You look scared, my dear reader. Don't be. Dying is not so bad; it's the not waking up part that is. Of course, I wouldn't know as I did wake up. Yes, that's right; I'm not human. You should have listened to your intuitions when you came into this room; they were right. You have changed your question now, my dear reader.

  What am I?

Let me ask you a question now, my dear reader, and see how well you answer. Will I kill you? Oh no, not yet. First I must tell this tale, and get it off my chest. Like I said, I'm tired. Tired of this saga, which has become a bit of a legend, has it not? No, you would not know, would you? You *could* not know. Even if it was laid out in front of you, or poured into your mind telepathically, you would still not know. It is okay, it is not your fault.

  Whose fault it is?

I do not know. Maybe your ancestors, maybe your mother's, maybe your children's. Yes, the future can affect what has happened. Strange thought, is it not? But then, I am strange, am I not my dear readers? Yes, you are thinking that, I can see it in your face, and better yet, I can sense it in your movements, as you nervously run a hand through your hair. Yes, you are nervous, and your fear is becoming more noticeable. Maybe I should get on with my tale, before you run off on me. Not that you would get far, I could catch the fastest horse without breaking a sweat.

  My question?

Ah, yes. Something that will finally bring us to my tale, and allay your nervousness, though it will—certainly—increase your fear.

What do you know of vampires?

Bram Stoker's "Dracula" comes to your mind, dear reader, and you laugh a little, confused. Bram Stoker, a magnificent writer, great imagination. Though not even he would have enough imagination to visualize what I will tell you. I'm getting of the subject, where was I?

Oh yes, vampires.

To you, they cannot walk in sunlight, fear garlic and the crucifix and wood kills them. One out of four, my dear reader. You look confused again. Let me ask you another question.

  Do you *believe* in vampires?

No? They do not exist? They are just fairytales?

Well, I have bad news for you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~end~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Review, s'il vous plait!**


	2. Chapter One

**Disclaimer:** Night World not mine, characters are. Does anyone read these, actually? 

**Author's Note**: Well, hot-diggity-dog, chapter one is here. First chapter is a little boring, but please, it is a necessity! Please, this story will only be as good as your inputs, help me out!

**Enjoy:**

**A Lost Tale:** **** **Chapter One**

_~Let me be you're hero~  
~Would you dance, if I asked you to dance~_

I open my eyes, surprised a little at the sunlight streaming through my curtains. I do not usually sleep on until the sun rises. In fact, I do not usually sleep *at all* until the sun rises. I sigh, and get up, walking to the bathroom, and performing the morning ritual of washing, before going to the kitchen to grab a glass of blood. I glance at my little notice board—handmade, I'm rather proud of it—and close my eyes with dismay. Today I have a little job. I smile at myself as I pull on my jacket and walk out of my house. 'A little job' is a rather amusing way of describing killing someone. 

Yes, that is what I do. I am an assassin. I get hired by people to get rid of others. Though, I am not your average assassin. I do not kill for fun, simply for the money. I do not torture, my victims die in minutes of meeting me. 

I am 15 millennia old, and a vampire. Made, truthfully but still a vampire. I am not crazy, contrary to popular belief among the Night Worlder's who are hunting me, but fifteen thousand years can sometimes make you a little cranky. 

Like now. A boy bumps into me, and does not apologise. I stare after his back as he walks away, boring my will into his mind. Telepathy is easy to me, and a few seconds later the boy goes sprawling into the middle of the road. A car screeches by inches away and the boy jumps up, eyes wide open in shock. 

I walk away, satisfied; he will look where he is walking next time. I walk for some time, thinking a little. I have not much to think about, but then after 150 centuries a lot of thinking has been done already. Finally I arrive at my destination, a grey building, a little house like so many others in the road. I reach out with my powers, feeling for my target. He is there, and no one else. Good. This will be easy.

       Five minutes later I walk back out, the job done. Donovan Redfern lies in his own blood. It was easy to kill him, but then I have long ago learned to perfect my killing skills to the max. I quickly leave the area, going back to my house. 

I have no plans for today and decide to see one of my few friends, Topaz Dirgue. She is like me, a made vampire and has lived for 10 millennia; I have known her for five. Topaz is pretty, inside as well as out, if you get to know her. We are alike in many ways; we are both assassins and both dont socialise with others, to mention but a few. 

It is funny, I think as I get into my car. She is the only family I have. When I first met her, I wanted to kill her. It was in my crazy period, a time of enraged madness. I went around killing all that even looked at me wrongly. I am not proud of myself, and do not like the memories, so I push them away as I ascend the stairs to her little apartment. I knock on the door, while using my key to waltz right in. She is nowhere to be seen but I hear sounds in the bedroom.

"Hey, darling!" I call, pouring myself a drink. Honestly, it is like my own house, I feel so comfortable here. "Hey!" Topaz calls out of the bedroom. "I'll be out soon." 

 I walk to a little mirror on the wall and study my appearance. I am beautiful, I note with absent honesty. My skin is the colour of diluted milk chocolate—an effect of my African descent—and shines softly in the light. My black hair that shines brown in some places and red in others is cascading down my shoulders at the moment; I had it cut yesterday. I look roughly eighteen and think about the phrase 'appearances can be deceiving'. I must have invented it a while ago. 

I smile and I know it is perfect, just like the rest of me. Sometimes, I wish I had just one fault physically, though I'm sure I have plenty faults mentally. I say that as a joke, of course. I like to joke. My eyes stray to a sign next to the mirror, made of diamond. It says 'Topaz Dirgue & Sierra Rion'. Our two names, next to each other. I had it made for Topaz last year, for her birthday. Amazing how we, who have lived for so long, can remember our birthdays, but we do. Our names sound good together, I think, although 'Sierra Rion' is not my real name. That piece of information only Topaz and one other know, and they would tell no one.

    Topaz comes out of her bedroom, wearing a white blouse and light blue trousers, her dark hair cascading down her back and her brilliantly topaz eyes, set in fair skin, staring at me. I think she was named for those eyes, for it feels like they dominate your world when you look into them. She looks around seventeen and has a great smile, which she is showing to me now. "How's it going?" I pour her a drink also, and we sit down comfortably to chat. She sighs, and shakes her head, and I notice her smile is a little strained. "Him, huh?" I say, putting my hand on hers. 

Topaz had recently met her soulmate, only to loose him again. He didn't die, but he is part of an organization called Circle Daybreak. I know about them, of course, with their prophecies. To tell you the truth, I do not entirely disbelieve those, but do not believe them either. I am neutral, or try to be most of the time. Actually, I quite like Thierry Descoudres. I have met him several times over the years. I even helped search for Hannah Snow once—though she did not go by that name then. A thought suddenly strikes me; apart from him, I must be the oldest vampire alive. I smile, and once more look at my friend. She is not looking well.

    Topaz's soulmate decided he could not live the life of an assassin and had tried to persuade Topaz to join. Of course, she could not go. My friend and I both hate Circle Daybreak, though hate would be too strong a word to use.

   I pat her hand, a gesture she welcomes, for she grips my hand. "Thanks," she says. 

"What ever for?" I ask, knowing full well what she means. She knows I know and smiles at me. "Cheeky."

I smile back. "So what do you want to do today?"

She shakes her head. "Don't know. Wanna hit the shops?" She gasps, remembering something, and jumps up, flying into her bedroom. I watch her, amused. She is like a little child, so full of life. "Guess what I bought yesterday!" she calls, throwing things about in the bedroom.

"What?" I ask, reaching for one of the chocolates on the coffee table. She walks out of her bedroom, holding a beautiful dress. It is light blue and exquisitely made. I gasp, and congratulate her.  She shows me the price tag, and I whistle. " Nine thousand," I say. "Bit little, isn't it?"

She laughs and swats at me with a pillow. It does not matter about the price. Both of us are so rich that it would take the length of an A4 paper to write each of our accounts contents, using microscopic writing. And that is just the one in the US; I have several all over the world. Though rich, neither of us likes living in huge houses. Both our houses are quite small, only a few bedrooms and are in normal streets, not in the middle of the countryside or such.

  I swat my friend back and soon we are involved in a pillow fight, spreading goose-feathers all over the apartment. Finally, we stop, laughing uncontrollably. "Its good to hear your laughter," I say to my topaz-eyed friend, and she smiles at me. There is a knock on the door, hesitant, and I am beside it in a moment. "Who is it?" I call, my voice casual. "Um, its Amrick," says a voice.

Amrick. Topaz's soulmate. I look at my friend and she is looking at me with huge eyes. I open the door, letting the blond boy in and he walks in, nodding at me. He knows me and I know him, and I also know this cannot be good. Topaz is staring at him, her eyes still wide as he moves to stand in front of her. Then they collapse in each other's arms and I leave immediately, not wanting to see this. I walk quickly downstairs and am on the streets in a few seconds. I am worried about my friend, she has been smiling little these past weeks and I wonder what trouble Amrick has brought now. I shake my head. It is up to her, she may do what she wants. 

I stand still on the street and the people around me know wisely to skirt past as I think. I am bored, but I think I will go to the library. I set off for the library, which is almost a mile away in this large city of New York, but I like the exercise, and walk very fast. I like to read, in fact I *love* to read. I have read a lot over the past 15 thousand years, and have an extensive library in my single large property in Mauritius. Over the years I have met a lot of writers such as Shakespeare. He was not as brilliant as everyone thinks nowadays. In fact he was a little crazy back then.

     I arrive at the library soon, and step inside, nodding to the receptionist. She knows me well; I come here often, and she smiles back. I walk around, looking for something that interests me. Soon enough I spot a book I have been meaning to read for a while, called Lord Of the Ring. It is a fantasy book, about witches, elves, goblins and the like. I wanted to read this book because it is so imaginative and so not—real. 

Though, if *we* exist, *everything* might exist. I make myself comfortable and start reading, soon engrossed in the story. Honestly, JR Tolkien is such a good writer; his writing takes me away to a place of happiness, or some feeling that comes close. 

But like all good things, my contentment comes to an end soon. Someone sits next to me. I look up and meet jungle leaf green eyes set in a nicely crafted face with a tangle of blond hair. He is not old, nineteen to twenty at the most. Well build; tallish if he would be standing up; I see all these things because I am great at first impressions. I know something else too. He is not human. He is one of them, of which I am part too.

Vampire.

     I frown, and wait but he continues to look at me, not saying a word. "Can I help you?" I ask politely. Then he blinks, breaking his perfect composure. "Ms Rion," he says and I tense. Not many people know even my fake name. He has stopped and I nod for him to continue. "My name is James Maytree."

I tense more. Maytree. Did I not assassinate someone a while ago with that name? But it is too soon, far too soon, and no one has ever come on my trail after an assassination. "I would like to speak to you," he says.

"About what?" I ask, keeping my voice casual. He says one word, and it nearly stops my heart that had been beating for the past 1500 decades.

"Assassins."

Yet I keep my composure; I have become very good at it. I smile confusedly at him. "I'm sorry. I have no idea what you are talking about."

"I'm sure you do, Ms Rion." He is persistent. I have enough of this little game. I briefly close my eyes in a gesture of exasperation, and make my voice slightly annoyed. "Please get to the point, Mr Maytree. I am rather busy."

He does not get to the point, but looks around him. "We will talk about it another time, Ms Rion." He gets up.

"I'm pretty sure we *wont*, Mr Maytree," I say, making sure he knows I mean business. Anger flows into his eyes, and he leans close to me. "Be careful, Ms Rion. One of these days, you will not wake up."

"Are you threatening me?" I ask, my voice sharp.

He says nothing but moves away. "We will meet again."

I frown as he departs. Who is this James Maytree? How does he know who I am? Where did he know to find me? I am slightly annoyed, but only because my library visit has been ruined. I am not afraid of James Maytree; I have met monsters far worse than him and dealt with them sufficiently, I will do the same to him if he proves troublesome.

I put him out of my mind as I leave for my house.

 It would prove to be a mistake.

_~ Would you run, and never look back~  
 ~Would you cry if you saw me crying~_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~end~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Raise me out of my depressive state and comment!! Ah, I'll love ya forever for it!


	3. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer: **The usual ladida, Night World is owned by LJS but these characters are mine! And don't you forget it! 

**Author's Note: ** Aaah, my first reviews!!! _THANK YOU_ to **Penguin, Judapea**, and especially **Bob n Kazzi**, who reviewed _TWICE_! Thank you all so much, you're making me carry on with this story!

Ah, my, I'm proceeding quite well with this, don't you love me? But please, keep your reviews coming in! I love them, adore them, absolutely LIVE for them!

**Enjoy!**

**A Lost Tale:**

****

**Chapter two**

_~Would you save my soul tonight~  
~Would you tremble, if I touched your lips_~

Ring. Ring.

The telephone is ringing, and my mind conceives the sound, though I don't want to open my eyes. It is too early and I am still asleep. The telephone does not want to stop ringing, and finally I reach over and yank the receiver off its hook.

"What?" I demand.

"Well, hello to you too." The voice that greets me is amused, with a faint hint of an accent behind it. Devon Rygnor. Another one of my friends, and the last person who knows my real name. He is lamia, one of the Silverthorne clan, a lesser well-known clan than the usual lamia ones, though he does not go by his clan name. Devon is not as old as Topaz or me, merely a couple of thousand years. I have known him for about 500 years, 536 years to be exact (I have a great memory). He can be a real pest, sometimes, like now. 

"What do you want, Devon?" I growl, getting up resignedly and go about getting ready.

"Nothing," he responds. "Just checking up on my favourite person. Did you get your job done?"

He is referring to the job I did a few days ago; Donovan Redfern.

"Yeah," I say while making myself some breakfast. Strange, but in all my life, I have not stopped craving real, human food.

"So what else did you call for?" I know that was not the only reason.

"Nothing. Just wanting a chat. Are you coming to the club tonight?" Devon owns a club not far from here, and Topaz and I frequently go there. "Maybe," I say, settling down on my couch. A voice sounds in the background through the telephone, and I hear Devon hushing someone.

"Ah," I say, mischievously. "Who did you take home last night, and what did you promise her this time?"

He laughs, but it's a little strained, and I get straight to the point.

"What's going on, Devon?"

"I seem to have gotten myself into a little trouble," he says and his voice sounds just a tad bit frightened. I sigh. It must be bad for him to call me. Usually he handles all his affairs himself, and not very pleasantly either.

"So who's out to kill you this time?"

"An old enemy. Someone strong. I can't handle them."

"You want me to get rid of them."

"No. Just—some protection." He sounds lost and my heart goes out to him. He has been a good friend over the years, even saving my life a few times. "Okay," I say and he sighs.

"Thanks, Si," he uses my nickname. "You are an absolute angel."

"Of death," I comment dryly, and he laughs. The voice in the background sounds again and I demand an explanation. He laughs a little again, seeming embarrassed. "What wrong, Devon," I taunt. "Found your soulmate?"

 There's a slight embarrassed pause, before he answers. "Yes, actually."

I am shocked immensely, yet pleased for my friend. He sounds happy, more than I've ever heard him. He explains how they touched in the club last night. She is a witch, of the name Incia Diouncia. I can feel his happiness through the phone, and he talks non-stop about her. Soon I am laughing, but growing tired.

"Okay, okay," I saw as he launches into how beautiful she is. 

A knock sounds at my door.

"She has large eyes that are just—" he goes on.

"Beautiful," I say. "Yes, you told me."

The knock sounds again. Harder and more impatient. I wonder who it could be. I dont get many visitors.

 I am standing now, moving towards the door, but Devon's next words stop me in my tracks.

"I think I love her, Si."

My heart contracts. It is so sweet to hear that, and vaguely, deep, deep inside I wonder whether I have a soulmate. But I know the answer to that. No. For who would love a monster such as I? I have killed among thousands and do not care. I am an assassin. I am inhuman.

Devon's voice brings me back. He has speeded off again, talking about her personality this time. The knocking has not stopped but is a banging now. "All right," I yell at the door. "Coming! Devon, stop talking *now*." He obeys and falls quiet. "That's sweet, hon, I'm happy for ya. But now I really have to go." And I put down the phone, sure he does not mind. Truly, if you can see past the vampire thing (not to mention the assassin thing), he is a great person.

 I open the door, in the chaos forgetting to scan for who it is, and see James Maytree in front of me. I blink, surprised and in that instant he has stepped around and past me, going into my little apartment. I do not like that, and thoughts of death come to my mind, although I put them back out. I close the door and face this James person. "Hello Ms Rion," he says, sitting down on my couch.

" *Do* come in, and please *do* take a seat, " I say sarcastically. He smiles, but it does not reach his eyes.

"I have a proposition for you, Ms Rion."

"Really? What makes you think I want to hear it?"

"Oh, the fact that I know where you live, how you look and a *lot* of people would just *love* that information." He is sounding smug, and my annoyance increases. He is threatening me, I am sure of it. 

"What do you want?" I say, making my voice bored.

"Oh, I dont know. About 20mill should do."

I am thunderstruck—and mad. Before James Maytree can even blink I have launched myself at him and have him slammed against the wall. My hand is like a vice around his throat. "You dare to threaten me?" I hiss, my voice as cool and dark as a snake's. At that point I think I would have let him go, but he is still smug.

"Do you know who I am?" He says, leaning forward slightly. "I can have a swarm of Dark Ninja's faster than a fifteen millennia old vampire can strip." 

And suddenly I'm laughing. This stupid, silly, *young* vampire thinks he can best me? Hah, I think, as he looks at me incredulously. That'll be the day. 

"Mr Maytree," I say coolly, "Kindly retract that statement. You are not in the best of predicaments now."

Now he is angry—as if he can do something to me—and his eyes become hard. "Don't you know who I am, bitch?"

"No, but I know what you will be. Dead." I focus my mind on the stake on my coffee table. It flies up and lands in my hand—I am very good at telekinesis. I cannot afford for him to live. Even if I did pay up—20mill is little to me—he would most probably pass my information on to others who will be less—nice. 

Besides, I *HATE* being called 'bitch'.

James has gone a chalky colour and is looking decidedly less smug. He opens his mouth—probably to plead for his life—but I slam the stake in his chest and watch him die. Honestly, I am as bad as Hunter Redfern sometimes, though I do not know why everyone is so scared of him; I knew his father and was there when he was born.

     After some minutes James Maytree is nothing but a structure of mummified bones, and I'm wondering what to do with him. Finally I decide to get rid off him in an alley. I nearly laugh as I get rid of James Maytree. It feels like a murder-detective sort of thing. But I am not worried.1

A sly little voice tells me somewhere that maybe I should be.

~*~

         A while later, I arrive at Topaz's flat to check on her. I have not seen or spoken to her for the past few days, and I admit I am worried about her. Why did Amrick have to come back, I ask myself as I ascend the stairs. She was just starting to feel better. 

I know my friend sometimes suffers from sleepless nights (or should I say 'days'). I know those nights are the ones Amrick goes on missions. And I also know those are the nights that she could get that feeling…the feeling that Amrick did not return from those missions. 

I take out my key and insert it, opening the door. The next moment I am flying, and hit the wall hard. I gasp and blink, pushing the pain back. In front of me stands a dishevelled brown haired young vampire. He does not belong here, and does not look he has been invited. 

Besides he hit me.

I hit *him* across the room.   
Literally. 

My fist connects with his jaw and sends him flying into the far wall of the living room. His impact with it jars the house and I hear scrambling in the bedroom, though I pay no attention. In an instant I am on the brown haired vampire, and I drag him to his feet, only to throw him to the other side of the room. Once more he grunts, his eyes falling shut in pain—my touch is not quite soft. I break the leg of the wooden coffee table and advance toward him. "Speak," I say. He sees the wood and his eyes widen, and he starts to sputter.

"Hey lady, you have it wrong—"

I do not wait for him to continue but I bring the wood down. Someone grabs my arm. I swirl around, furious now. It is Topaz and she is looking at me mildly curious. "Si," she says. "Why are you trying to kill Amrick's best friend?" She swipes hair out of her face, not altogether surprised.   
She knows I occasionally…overreact.

I stop and lower the wood, feeling slightly embarrassed. I have enough grace, however, to apologise to the boy, whose name is Gerard but is called Gerry most of the time. He in turn apologises for striking me, he thought I'd come to burgle Topaz (silly, I think he should have saved his worry for the burglar. I know how un-nice Topaz can be). Soon enough the three of us are laughing and I find out that Gerry has come along with Amrick for a respite from Daybreak work.

~*~

Later that night, the four of us arrive at club Darklight, Devon's club. The club is a strange mixture of humans and Night People thrown in together. The music pounding loudly sounds appealing and I join the dance-floor immediately, giving myself up to the beat. It feels good, and I realise that today has been filled with too much excitement. The thought saddens me for a moment; I have always loved excitement but lately I have settled into a routine. I do not like it. But I am dancing and put it out of my mind, moving to the beat just like everyone else around me. Soon I am sweaty and stop for a drink. At the bar I meet Incia Diouncia and I see that she is beautiful, with long black hair, and a Latino complexion. She smiles at me and I see the true earth-witch thing in her. She radiates serenity. What on earth is she doing with someone like Devon? Speaking of the devil, he appears beside me. 

"I see you have met my lovely girlfriend," he says, barely audible above the music. I smile and nod, not wishing to scream to be heard. He smiles back at me and whisks her away to the dance-floor. I stand by and watch, slowly drinking my coke.

_    I am bored._

The thought comes to me suddenly, like a light being switched on in my head. Where does it come from?

_    I need excitement._

The second thought of strangeness. I wonder if I'm losing my mind.

    _I wish *something* would happen._

I frown at myself and decide I *am* losing my mind. I do not wish. Not for anything, because it does not come true. I've found that out the hard way. Once more I join the dance floor, dancing hard and wild, but I wonder whether it isn't to get my mind of what I wished for. I shake my head—partly to the beat—and put that thought out of my head. For some reason I cannot stop thinking off the phrase:

  "Be careful what you wish for."

_~Would you laugh, oh please tell me this~  
~Now would you die, for the one you love~_

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~end~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_Come on, come on, just one little push of the button below, and _**COMMENT**_!_


	4. Chapter Three

**A Lost Tale**

****

**Disclaimer: **Night World themes are not mine, but owned by the glorious LJS. The characters….all mine! I didn't say this last chapter, but the lyrics are also not owned by me. I will provide a list of the lyrics right at the end.

**Rating:** 15. Years of age, that is. Lots of fighting and some use of bad language in the whole story.

**Author's Note: **Well, I'm making good progress. Here's chapter three. **Thanks** to _Penguin_, who was kind enough to comment. What happened to everyone else? Don't you realise I'm writing a masterpiece here? **Comment**, would you?

Enjoy y'all, but please-oh-please-oh-please REVIEW! I'll _pay_ you, really, I will!

**WARNING:** There are some swear words in here. I can't make you *not* read it, but you've been warned. So please don't sue me; I wouldn't be able to afford it anyway. I can't give you any money, but I can give you a *looks in pocket* Starburst sweet?

**Enjoy:**

**A Lost Tale:**

****

**Chapter three**

_~Bailamos, let the rhythm take you over~  
~Bailamos, __tiqeuro__, mi amore ~_

         "I am bored," Topaz says, and her words cause my head to snap up. They are identical to what I was thinking a week ago, what I have been thinking for the past seven days. I *am* bored, and maybe my friend means it like that as well. I look up at her, and see she does not. She is merely talking about today, and now. 

She is not bored of life, like I am. 

"So what do you want to do?" Topaz plops on the couch next to me. "I dont know," I say, keeping my dark thoughts at bay. I jump up and look out of the window, and do not see that Topaz's eyes follow me worriedly. Outside, a beautiful moon is waning, and the scant light is gives shows me Topaz's Mediterranean-style back garden. Truly, it is very beautiful. Suddenly I am sick of feeling melancholy and decide to do something. With a determined air I turn to Topaz. "Let's hit Darklight." She grins at me, a flash of the old Topaz, when it was us two against the world. 

I have brought my car, a very expensive Ferrari, sports model. It is a cute two-door with a huge boom box build in. I bought it a while ago, and it is painted silver, unlike the black we vampires are associated with. Honestly, we are so overrated in books. 

We get in and I start it, inserting a CD with my other hand. Latino music comes blasting out of the speakers and I speed away. Right now, I am infatuated with Latino music, though over the years I have loved every music known to man, and some that are not. 

As we drive on the streets many humans and Night Walkers alike look at us, and I enjoy it. It's a feeling I haven't experienced for a long time; being in control. I really should get out more. 

Soon we arrive at Darklight, and are greeted by Devon. "Hello, ladies," he says putting a hand around us both. Incia appears, smiling at us and winking. Over the past week I have gotten to know her well, and I know she will be one of those friend you keep for life. " *Two* ladies, Devon?" she says, her voice mock angry. "Should I be jealous?"

Devon hurriedly lets go off of us and puts his arm around her. "Never, my love. Never." And I hear the worship in his voice and I laugh. I am amazed how much he has changed. But then soulmates seem to be doing that to everyone, dont they? 

Soon I join the dance floor and dance wildly with a vampire. He is very good looking, but then aren't they all? He seems a little too possessive for my taste; his hands seem to be having trouble keeping still. Soon I get sick of it, and with an apologetic smile, I walk away. The idiot does not have the sense to leave me alone but drags me back on the dance floor. I look at him and say, calmly and in his mind ~touch me again and I will rip your little throat out and make you feel what you put humans through, capise? ~

He pales and lets go of me very quickly. I smile, angelically, and leave. I am laughing as I go outside for a breath of air. The night air is chilly, and it bites into my lungs but I welcome it. I look up at the stars and am reminded of the ones I saw fifteen thousand years ago, for the very last night as a human although I was not aware of it back then. 

A grim smile crosses my features as I think of the one who changed me. I returned the favour pretty quickly, though and killed him. I am lost in thoughts I haven't thought for hundreds of years, and faces I haven't seen in equal that time cross my minds eye. The thoughts are uncomfortable, some of them and I become increasingly uneasy. Something is happening. I can feel it. As if the Gods have been paying attention to me a shrill mental voice sounds in my mind, urgent and full of fear.

~SI!!! ~ It is Topaz.

I shock and nearly jump, though I stop myself soon. ~What is it?~

~We're…sort of…in TROUBLE!~ and Topaz sends me an image of her and Devon surrounded by werewolves. My first initial feeling is anger; *no one* attacks me friends, but my second feeling is calm. They have been cornered in the little square behind the club, and there are eight wolves. Topaz and Devon are not dealing. All this I get from Topaz's mind. ~I'll be there~ I say and slink through the club, and through the office. 

I arrive at the back door quickly, and survey the scene in front of me. Topaz is fighting with three wolves at once, while Devon is being beaten by another two. 

Three wolves already lie unconscious. I take out my little silver dagger—thank the Gods for paranoia, I *never* travel without a weapon—and focus it on the wolf that is currently strangling Topaz. It is an easy shot, and he screams horribly as it lodges itself between his ribs. 

It is also a bad move, however, as two wolves immediately lunge at me. I easily dance circles around them, and kick one of them away, hard. His ribs crack as he hits the wall and I am not surprised; I used enough force to stop a car at break-neck speed. 

The second one actually gets a punch in me—before I break his hand, and his neck. Topaz, meanwhile, is enjoying ripping another wolf's hand off, literally. I retrieve my dagger and calmly stab it in one wolf that is currently pounding Devon. Devon deals easily enough with the last one, and the three of us stand there in a semi-circle. "What is going on?" I ask, a little patient; Devon is not looking so good. Incia runs outside a moment later and starts screaming at Devon, all the while flooding him with yellow healing-fire. "I *knew* something was going on, but could you be bothered to tell me? Of course not, I am just here to look good, aren't I??"

Devon is shaking his head and finally gets her to be quiet. Then he quickly explains who they are, and in his office shows us a picture of the man who is hunting him. It is a black and white photo but I can still see that whoever the guy is he was very good-looking. Not old, roughly twenty years, with darkish hair, I cannot tell, it may be brown or black. 

"Devon, "I say, and now the anger stirs in me. "Leave it to me. I will—find him."

He looks up, knowing full well what I mean by 'find him'. "Be careful," he says and I touch his shoulder, leaving the office with Topaz. Good friends are so hard to find these days. "How about I join ya, Si," Topaz says. "No," I say. "Its too dangerous."

She scoffs at me and I know why. Together we have done far more dangerous things than this. "Fine," I say, but I can't keep unease out of my stomach. Something is wrong. Very wrong.

~*~

It is days later, and I am sitting in my darkened living room staring into space. I have found nothing about he who hunts my friend and I am getting increasingly infuriated. It is vexing, and I cannot shake off the feeling that something is happening or will or has. I do not know which.

 Suddenly an intense feeling to see the sun swamps me, and I am surprised. I am not particularly fond of the sun, though its light has never failed to lift my dark mood. The feeling increases and I finally give in, jumping up on the couch to reach the top of the curtains. I draw them, looking down at my garden. It is growing nicely, even in winter; a little gift by a witch friend of mine. 

I look up—straight at a gun. For a moment I am paralysed and then I hear a soft click of the safety catch. I gasp and throw myself backward, the bullet passing inches away from my face and lodging itself into my wall. I quickly get up and watch in horror as a man calmly climbs through my window, now shattered. Though I've only seen him in a picture before, I recognize him immediately. It is the same man that is hunting Devon.

Great, I think. This should be fun.

He is looking at me coldly and at once I realise the photo did not do him justice. At all. He is, without a doubt, the most handsome man I have seen in all of my long, long life. He seems young, looking maybe no older than twenty – although I'm sure he is far older. He has beautiful eyes, black—yes, true black—but with gold specks in their depths. Equally black hair is tangled above a well defined, *very* nicely crafted face. It is attached to a well-worked body. For a moment I wonder what it would feel like to run my hands over those muscles, and stop, aghast. He is still looking at me, coolly, with just a flicker of hate in those eyes. I decide to go for bluff and innocence, though I do not have the latter.

"What are you; _psychotic_?" I yell. "Do you _like_ shooting people?"

"The only psychotic around here is you, Ms Rion," he says and his voice is sensual, with lilting tones. Then I realise what he has said; _my name_.

Oh God, I think. I am in trouble. Somehow I sense I will not get myself so easily through this. He still has his shotgun—*shotgun* I am being held by a *shotgun*—faced at me. I clear my throat and carry on. "Sorry but I think you've got the wrong person."

"I dont think so." Again those lilting tones catch my attention in a way that spells problems. I smile at him, and move lightning fast, my foot catching the gun and sending it flying straight into my McDonalds lunch. He doesn't blink and I get angry. "Damn," I say irritation showing in my voice and face. "I was going to eat that."

"A vampire eating human food?" there is scorn in that voice and my anger increases. "Listen. I dont know what you want, but you had better explain yourself or get the hell out."

"Well, I'd have thought that was obvious. I've come to kill you."

Does he expect me to be impressed? I scoff. "With a gun whose size is only exceeded by that of your head—"

Suddenly I am flying, hitting the wall at the velocity of an enraged elephant. Too bad for me that my wall is wood. The breath is knocked out of me, and I groan sinking down to the floor. 

_Oh, the little bastard. OW!!!_

However, fifteen millennia has taught me how to suppress pain quickly, and within a few seconds am back up—and now *mad*.  I hiss at him, and he smiles, the anger gone out of those eyes. "You look stressed, Ms Rion."

 _That would have nothing to do with the fact that an unknown man is standing in my living room, threatening to kill me_.

 But I keep silent and realise he keeps saying my name. "At least grace me with your name and reason for trying to kill me?"

He laughs, and though cruel the sound is beautiful. "Drake Blackthorn."

  Oh *shit*.I'm in a mess.

Drake Blackthorn, notorious Night Lord, famed for killing among thousands, although I'm sure my figures exceed his. If he's here, that means I must have done something *very* bad.

"So why am I favoured with your visit?" I say, and despite my predicament cannot keep the hate out of my voice. I cannot stand the arrogant bastard. 

His eyes are detached, as if this is just another job to deal with. "You killed someone rather—important."

I get the feeling he wasn't going to say important, but something else. "I dont think so, but let me check to see the cleaner didn't shove the corpse under the couch while cleaning."

His eyes flare with anger again, and I see he isn't entirely unemotional. Good, it's something to use against him, if I get out of here. My window facing the street is open, and I get an idea. I move around him so his back is to the open window. "I did not kill anyone, except…Donovan Redfern?"

He frowns. "Who?"

"Ah, okay. Then I killed no one."

"You killed James Maytree," he hisses. "You killed my blood-brother."

"You have a blood brother?!" I heard he had no family, that he'd murdered them. He frowns at me and I realise I should not be focused on trivial matters. "I mean, oh dear, you're blood brother is dead?" my voice is innocent and my eyes are wide. Although in trouble I cannot help but banter with him; he seems to be so good at it. Of course, if he kills me I might not be saying that.

"Do not play the fool, Ms Rion. He told me he was coming to see you, for—matters. He was found dead in an alley."

"And what makes it link to me?"

"Your fingerprints." 

Oh. Shit. My fingerprints I never leave anywhere, but what matters now is how to get myself out of this situation. "So what? I did kill him."

Anger stirs again in those eyes, and makes a step towards me. "Don't play smart, Ms Rion. It's not very becoming."

"And that comes from someone who's IQ is about the same as their puny…" and I look down at him, making sure he knows what I mean. He advances another step, and I taunt him, bringing him closer. He says a word that would make Satan blush. "Go to Hell," I say, he is close now, close enough. "Been there, done that," he says, closer even. He seems distracted and I grab my chance, lifting up the shotgun telekinetically into my hands. His eyes widen. "Wanna go back?" I grin at him. I fire. 

Amazingly he dodges the bullet at such close range. I am prepared however and hit him with the gun, square on the jaw. He staggers backwards, and I move into the air, kicking him again. He reels back, closer to the window. 

I swoop down, grabbing his legs and throwing him clear out of the window. He lands in a painful heap. I grab the gun and it is a moment's work to shoot him. I think the bullet is in his arm, though it does not matter. He will die in a matter of minutes (the bullets were wood). I stumble backwards and sit on my couch, shakily. 

That had been scary, a feeling I have not experienced for a long time. I need to get out of here. Killing a Night lord is *bad*; they will come to find me soon. I look around my little apartment; I do not want to leave, it has become _home_. 

But I'd rather lose my home than my life. 

I sit for a few minutes more and then get up; I have to dispose of the body. But when I look out of the window once more, a horrific sight greets me. 

_The street is empty._

I frantically look up and down the bareness of it, but there is no one. Not a soul, although I'm not sure you can call Drake Blackthorn a 'soul'. Damn, I *really* have to get out of here. Somehow I get the impression Drake Blackthorn did not appreciate getting beaten by me, though it is an honour. 

Joking to myself helps me calm, and I hurriedly begin to make preparations. 

   I have to disappear before the day is over.

~*~     

        I burst into Topaz's house and she looks at me mildly from where she sits on the couch. "What's going on?" she asks, sensing my urgency.

"You are *not* going to believe this," I say, sitting down next to her.

"I'm a vampire, try me," she answers, a laugh on her face.

"I just tried to kill…Drake Blackthorn."

She stays silent, and her mouth falls open. Literally. 

"Say something," I say as the silence continues.

"You did *what*?" she explodes.

"I tried to—"

"Yeah, I heard you but *why*? Don't you know he's *dangerous*?"

I sigh. "Yes, but he tried to kill me first."

"Why?"

I tell her of James Maytree, and what happened today. She sits and listens to me, her expression growing more and more worried. "We have to get you out of here," she says after I finish, and I nod. "Don't I know it."

"Wait," she says and turns to her phone. She calls someone and speaks urgently in it before putting down and facing me. "There's someplace you can stay, not far from here."

I hug her compulsively; she is *such* a good friend. We go to see the apartment she speaks of and I am satisfied. Yet do I have a choice?

It is almost the same as my last one, and I thank Topaz, who waves it away. "Just watch yourself. Drake is not known for kindness. Stay low for a while, everything will work out."

   I hope she is right.

~*~

Days later and I am well settled in to my new home. I am still cautious walking the streets and going anywhere but somehow I seem to be forgetting what has happened with Drake Blackthorn.  He has not shown himself and I boast to myself that I scared him off, but a deep part of me warns me to be careful. I do not listen. 

   I am getting increasingly bored of sitting indoors and I decide to go to Darklight, it will be a chance to take my mind of this dilemma and a chance to see Devon. I have not seen him since that night we fought with the wolves. I jump in my Porsche and drive hard and fast, screeching to a halt in front of the club. 

The bouncers do not bat an eyelid, they are used to my wildness by now. I grin a hello and go in. There is techno music playing tonight, not one of my favourites, so I go into the back-office. 

There I find Topaz lounging on the sofa, in a very compromising position with her soulmate. "Nice image," I say and they hurriedly let go off each other, looking suitably embarrassed. I grin at them. "Where's Devon?"

"He went to meet Incia's parents," Topaz laughs. I raise my eyebrows, a little surprised, I dont think Devon has ever gone to see a girl's parents. 

"Oh, well," I say, turning to go. "You can carry on now."

Topaz throws a cushion at me, which I dodge easily and I walk out, laughing a little. It is then I realise I have not laughed for a long time. I really should more. 

I walk out; suddenly I do not feel like partying anymore. I leave the club and decide to take a walk. The air is crisp and the cold is cool in my lungs. I walk briskly, wrapped deep in my thoughts and I do not notice I am being followed. 

Suddenly hard hands grab me from behind, and wrench my arms back. It hurts and I still immediately, I do not want to break my arms. 

"Its not nice to leave people for dead," a sensuous voice whispers in my ear, cool breath tickling my neck. 

"Its not nice to attack people with shotguns," I say back, panic galloping through my heart. The pressure on my arms is really starting to hurt but I refuse to make a sound.

"Revenge is necessary for me," Drake Blackthorn says.

"Ah, so the stories are true."

"Of course they are."

"I thought so," I snap my leg back and catch his knee—though that was not what I was aiming for. He lets go off me and I jump away, twirling to face him. Something tells me to run, but I dont. _Maybe I should._

He straightens and regards me coolly. "Feisty."

"Retarded," I say and his eyes darken, the gold speck being emphasised even more. He regains his composure immediately however, and it leaves me wondering whether I didn't image that.

"So tell me, Ms Rion. Why did you kill James Maytree?"

"He threatened me."

He nods, as though he knew that that had been it. For a second there is a glimmer is in his eyes. It looks like…sadness, and I am immensely surprised. It seems everyone is capable of emotion, even Drake Blackthorn.

Behind me, I can hear a car approach fast and immediately I see the trap. 

_Too late. Too late!_

I swear and turn, bolting at the speed of a car. I turn the corner back the way I came; if only I can reach the club and get to my car or to Topaz. Unfortunately the car has almost reached me and I run into an alley. The car stops and about six people run out, I count the footsteps. I risk a glance back, and dismay floods my heart. 

Dark Ninjas.

I increase my speed and up ahead I see the alley is a dead end, but there is a bin and I vault onto it jumping up onto the roof. The whole process has taken me ten seconds but takes the Ninjas longer; fifteen millennia taught me to be fast. 

I am running flat out across the roof, dodging flowerpots and clotheslines, literally running for my life. I've heard what those Dark Ninjas do to the people they catch and I have no wish of becoming a human porcupine.

Although, it's Drake I'm more afraid of.

_Oh no._ A problem arises; the roof has run out. 

There is nothing in front of me, except a twenty-foot drop. I risk it and jump. For a few seconds I'm suspended in the air and then I slam into the floor, *hard*, my ankle giving out. I howl softly, wincing through the pain that shoots up my leg. I think my ankle is broken, but I can't be sure. Instead, I catch my breath for three seconds and then I'm back off running, but slower, trying to give my leg a chance to heal without losing my life.

Of course, some of the Ninjas have not made it, but there are still four behind me. Less than ten seconds later my ankle _snicks_ into place, and I grin triumphantly. 

Then I _run._

Tearing away I pump my fifteen thousand years old legs, putting all my vampiric powers into it. I know I must look like a blur of dark clothing streaking by. The Dark Ninjas are falling behind, and my heart lifts. I'm going to live, I think as I near the corner. I'm going to live! 

I turn the corner and _slam_ into a gloved hand. Pain crashes into my nose and I stop, staggering backwards, holding my face. I should have known he would beat me here. Drake Blackthorn smiles at me, and for the second time this evening, hands wrench my arms back. 

I sigh outwardly – screaming with anger inside – and kick the person behind me in the same way I did Drake. This person groans, and lets go. I whirl round, grab him and slam him against the wall, his head connecting with a sickening thud. 

_Now I am angry._

The second one produces a wooden stick, and levels it at me. He is careless and I can simply grab the stick. I grin as I pull it out of his arms and hit him with it. I whirl facing Drake.

"This obsession thing has *got* to stop!" I say.

"But that is not possible, Ms Rion," he says with a lazy curl of his lips.

"And why is that, pray tell?"

He leans towards me and for a second those black eyes fill my vision, and the gold specks shimmer deep within. His voice is cold but has a tinge of amusement. "I never give up."

Suddenly a cord is being tied around me, tight. I gasp, where did it come from? It is bark and I cannot break free. I am picked up unceremoniously and dumped in the back of a van that has appeared out of nowhere. Someone's voice – who's? – chants a few words. Words, which seem to steal into my bones, and blood, making me sluggishly weak. Suddenly I feel a great need to sleep. 

No! I try to resist, try to fight – but to no avail. 

In seconds I am sound asleep.
    
    _~Cut my life into pieces~_
    
    _~I've reached my last resort, suffocation, no breathing~_
    
    _~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~end~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_
    
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	5. Chapter Four

**Disclaimer:**Ah, do any of you read this? Can I stop writing it if I shout it here? Yes? Okay: I DO NOT OWN ANY THEMES! THEY ARE CREATED BY LJS, THE GODDESS OF GREAT WRITING! 

**Author's Note****:** Chaaaapter Four is here!!! Thanks so much to **Penguin**, **Sally D **and **Leanne** who commented with some of the nicest reviews I have ever received *laughs* Thank you guys! Please keep commenting! And where is everyone else? Why aren't you commenting? **Come on! Please do review!!  
** Yes, the pace is fast, but that's just the way the story is going. This chapter is a little slower, but still action.

**Enjoy:**

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**A Lost Tale:**

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**Chapter four**
    
    _~Wish somebody would tell me I'm fine~_
    
    _~Nothing's alright, nothing's fine~_

I wake up in a cold room, my breath giving off little clouds. Looking around, I notice the room is not furnished at all, save for the bed I'm lying on. The walls are not even painted. Immediately last night's—and I *know* it was last night—events come crashing down on me. I am up and off the bed in seconds, and try the wooden door. 

Of course, it is locked and I bet it's too thick for me to break. Nevertheless I do try. Jumping up onto the air I place a kick square in the middle. Pain explodes into my foot and I sink on the ground with a muffled groan. 

I dont think I will try that again, I think as I slip off my shoe and massage my foot. What is going on here? I walk around the room—it is very big and I explore every inch of it. Nothing. 

The only window is a skylight high up on the ceiling. By now I am feeling increasingly hungry—I need blood. I consider what to do. Then look up at the skylight. An idea forms in my head and I close my eyes, settling myself in lotus position. 

With one part of my mind, I collect all my mental energy, with the other I reach out, feeling for any people in this building or house—whatever it may be. There is only one, a vampire by his thoughts. His mind is not well guarded and it is easy to place a suggestion in his mind, telling him to check up on me soon. 

It is only a few minutes before he does and I use the time to collect the rest of my mental power. Soon I hear the door being unlocked and it creaks open. 

How original, I think. Just like a horror movie. I stay silent and stop breathing. I can only hold my breath for a few minutes maximum—unlike popular vampire myths—and hope he hurries up. He does and comes closer to me, a grave mistake it will be…for him.

"What's going on???" he says, his voice rough. He must be a hired crony, I think as I sense his movement. I do not move. He leans over and touches my shoulder, close now. I snap my eyes open and have the satisfaction of seeing him shocked before I blast him with mental power and he keels over. 

_Hehehe._

Smiling I step over him and leave the room. Walking quickly in the hall I discover I am being held in a quaint little house. It is beautiful, but I have no time to stare. I run into the living room and stop dead.

Drake Blackthorn is watching TV.

_*How the hell did I miss him?*_

He jumps up when he sees me and we stare at each other for a few seconds before he narrows his eyes. "Where is Dane?"

"Taking a little nap," I say noticing how a lock of hair falls into his eyes. "Wanna join him?" I reach over and grab the couch—it is quite large, it should knock him out—heave it up with a grunt and throw it at him. He wards up his hands, gold fire flowing out and the couch explodes while I watch in shock. "Of course," I say, dismayed but not showing it. "You *had* to be a witch as well."

He smiles cruelly at me, and I dont stay to find any more surprises—I bolt. Judging the distance between the window and me, I leap and crash through the glass. I land painfully on cement and groaning jump up and start to run. Behind me I can hear swift feet following me.  No matter how cute the house was, the garden is enormous. I cannot find a way out of it, and I run harder, though the sound of feet behind me has speeded up too. I strain my ears and faintly I can hear the sound of traffic to the right of me. 

Veering sharply I change course, running harder. Oh, shit! I nearly cry as I see why the traffic sounds were so faint. There is a fifteen-foot wall built around the garden. 

Not giving up—I *never* give up—I jump and my hands dig into the cracks of it. Swiftly I start to climb up and I finally can see the road and taste freedom—when a hand snakes around my waist and drags me back down. I fall backwards and someone falls with me. 

We hit the floor hard and I lie there not breathing for a second. Then I move but the hand is still around my waist and it keeps me to the floor. Drake lifts his head and looks at me. "Do you know how troublesome you are, Ms Rion?"

I flash a smile at him and he sits up. I stay on the floor and put a hand to my eyes—the sun is fierce. "I give up." Though I have no intention of doing that. I peep at him and he is looking at me a little surprised. 

"You have no intention of doing that, do you?"

Amazing, it is like he read my mind, though that is impossible. My mind wards are solid. I grin at him. "Of course not."

He stands up and extends a hand. "Shall we go inside?"

I stare at his hand and then him, suspicious; is he being nice? What is going on? And then I realise – he thinks I can't do anything, can't run. Watch me, I think grimly. You don't know Sierra Rion. I shoot his outstretched hand a pointed glance.

"It doesn't bite," he laughs.

_Oh yeah? I'm not so sure._

Thinking there is nothing that can surprise me after what I have just been through the past week or so, I reach up and grasp his hand. 

Suddenly a flash of diamond light explodes between our entwined fingers and I gasp and jerk away at the same moment he pushes me away. I fall and hit the floor hard, and already stunned, it hurts. I grab my arm were I hit it and in a flash he is beside me, cradling me like I'm something infinitely precious. He softly touches my arm where I hurt and the light is back and with a sudden jolt I realise what it is.

"Soulmates?" he whispers at me, his eyes large and the gold specks shimmering more than ever. 

"Apparently," I say, trying to make a joke of it but my voice betrays me. I look down and realise I am leaning against him and he is holding me. Strangely I do not mind. Drake smiles at me and I shiver. Something is pulling us closer, and it seems he has already given up the fight. Instead he traces one of the red highlights in my hair. "So beautiful," he murmurs and leans forward to place such a soft kiss on my lips. It sends a jolt of pure electricity through me and for a moment I can't breathe, and then—with horror—I realise I'm crying. 

"Hey, hey," he whispers and wipes my tears, while they fall unchecked. I have not cried in so long that I cannot remember the last time I did. With a shaking breath I stop, and I have no idea why I started crying in the first place. Drake doesn't say anything but stands up, pulling me along as well, his arms holding me in a tight hug. I sag in his embrace and finally feel all the tiredness hit me full-force. My legs can't support me anymore and Drake's holding me up. "I'm so—" I mutter.

~Tired~ he finishes in my mind, and I offer a vague smile, before collapsing altogether. He picks me up bride style, and I'm nearly asleep as I let my head fall into the curve of his neck, though I can still notice how perfect it feels. He carries me back into the house, into the bedroom, and puts me gently on the bed, pulling the covers over me. "Sleep," he says and smoothes my hair of my forehead, and within seconds I am.

~*~

I open my eyes to the setting sun, streaming in through the window. Turning I see Drake sprawled out on the big armchair next to me, asleep. A feeling of contentment washes over me, and I am surprised. I have not felt this good since…well, since forever. I study his features: that black hair, messed and falling over his forehead. His smooth skin, his full sensuous lips, all sun touched by the rays and it makes him look like an angel. My angel, and I realise I have to leave it all behind.

  I can't stay here. 

It's too dangerous. Two of the Night World's most notorious vampires shacked up together? It would be a ready-made meal for disaster. And I owe it to Devon to stay away. I cannot let anyone hurt my friends. 

Besides, did he not want to kill me?

Of course, there is another thought, deep but still audible to me. _Aren't you just afraid of feeling something? Or maybe someone?_

Am I looking for excuses? _Yes._

Do I care? _Oh yes._

Shut up! I yell mentally, upset. But only at how fast these sensations – feelings – are rising in me. 

_Leave me alone_, I think. _I never asked for this, never wanted this._

But that's a lie. I remember when Devon told me he'd met Incia. I'd wondered about my own soulmate, and my question had been answered by a knock on the door.

_Oh, how can I do this? I can't. I can't._

The link is pulling at me now, inviting me to dip into his thoughts, to forget about running away…_stay…stay…_

I banish that thought and stand very carefully, not disturbing him. _Enough playing around. _With a sigh I close my eyes, collecting all my power. I am refreshed and am strong once more. I look at him for the last time, and lean over him. It is as if he senses my presence, because very softly he sighs my name. "Sierra."

I nearly chicken out then, sadness tightening my heart, but I force myself to lean further, and hit him with all my mental power, blocking myself at the same time. It's tricky and some of the pain does get send down the soulmate link, but its over in a flash and Drake is slumped down, and I know he will not get up for the next twenty-four hours. 

Resolutely I turn, and leave the house, and the garden. I find a car and I hot-wire it and drive home, a few hours away (after getting lost a few times). I refuse to cry, refuse to let the warm tears slide until I am home and in my bed, and there I sob, and sob and finally surrender myself to the fact that I may *have* a soulmate, but that doesn't mean I *can* have him.

_~I'm running and I'm crying_

_I never realized I was spread too thin~_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~end~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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	6. Chapter Five

**Disclaimer****: **Themes, not mine, characters are. Please don't sue me. All I'm doing is obliging the voices in my head.

**Author's Note: **Huh, this is the fastest I'm ever writing a story, fanfic or not, but anything to please my readers! Many thousands of thanks go out to **Leanne** and **Jenni** who were kind enough to comment. 

**Leanne: **More dialogue, you say? Granted, except not in this part. There is a bit more dialogue than the last in this chapter, but I'd already written it by the time I'd read your review. But don't worry, next chapter will be much more "dialoguey". 

**Author's Warning:** Okay, from now on the chapters will take about 2/3 days to churn out. I'm writing this as fast as I can, it's just that I have to do a bit each day after college and with work plus homework, life gets pretty full. But I promise, a part every three days, at least! **Please let me know** if you are reading this fic, I know it hasn't got the greatest of titles, but its good! I swear! Just a few words would suffice, so hit that button!

Some sort of mushy-ness ahead, but then not. If you get my drift. Don't worry, I don't. Just enjoy, and **please review!**

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**Enjoy:**

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**A Lost Tale:**

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**Chapter Five**

_~I didn't here you leave_

_I wonder how am I still here_

_I don't want to move a thing_

_It might change my memory~_

__

He looks at her from the shadows, his face hidden. He'd searched for her for an eternity, it seemed to him, but in reality were only a few months. He sighs as he sees her turn time and time again; she sleeps uneasily. He feels her restlessness; it filters down to him. But yet, all he can do is stare at her across the room. Stare at her beauty that seems to be fixed in his mind. Stare at the face that has haunted his dreams, and waking hours, ever since she'd disappeared on him.   
Finally he walks over, and slides as quietly as a shadow into bed with her. After only a slight hesitation, he takes her into his arms, and then smiles at what he sees. The girl stills immediately, turning around only once more, to plant her hands on his chest, and put her face in the curve of his neck, where her breath tickles him. Sighing, she quietly falls into a deep slumber, a smile curling her face. And for the first time in a long time he slept soundly.

~*~

I wake immediately—long stretches have not graced me for a long time—and am immediately surprised I was asleep. I have not had a good sleep for…well…lets not go there, I think. The memories are locked away and will stay there. I look around my room, as I slowly sit up. Something seems different. There's a smell in the air, strangely familiar yet I cannot place it. And what is this feeling I have? Like I might smile today. What is going on, Sierra, I ask myself as I swing my legs out of bed, and get about getting ready. What is different? I sigh and try to place the thought out of my head as I warm a glass of blood, and sit at my large table, watching the dust flecks play in the ray of sunshine on the table.

 I am in Mauritius, the place I have been hiding for the past six months. Hiding like the coward that seems to have suddenly sprung up in place of the real me. Or hiding like you've got something to run from, a little voice said. Or maybe someone? 

 Hush, I tell the little voice. I do not want to think about such things. But in truth, they were all I could think off. There was nothing else for me to do. And even if there were, I would *still* think of that…thing. I sighed softly. Shaking my head and telling myself severely to snap out of this melancholy I decide to go for a rigorous workout. This house—mansion I should say—is equipped with a gym fit for a 15000-year-old vampire. Running up the flight of stairs to the third landing—and yes there's a fourth—I decide to go at it right now.

Hours later, I am finally tired of finding things to do. I have checked all my accounts, read over my stock reports, read three crime novels by J. Herbert, cleaned the house from top to bottom *and* had a great work-out. But it still only about seven pm, and there is nothing for me to do. Sighing I decide to go the games room, and watch a video. My collection is quite impressive, and I think tonight should be all about action. I do not have the heart for a romance. 

  Right then, just as I think that, just for a moment, black eyes with gold depths flash in my mind, and the shock is so sudden I have to gasp and grab at the stair banister. Wildly I look around. The image was so vivid it seemed like…*he*…was here. But I know the only people in the house are the housekeepers, and they're in their own wing. Get a grip, I tell myself. You're losing it. 

Resolutely I walk up the stairs. As I step in and close the door, I sense something that sends shivers up my spine. Slowly my head turns, and then—I could swear this—my heart that has been beating for the past 15millenia stops for just a split second, and then resumes beating ten times the normal speed.

  There on my favourite deep armchair, cool as a cucumber, sits the object of my fears and hopes, day and night dreams, thoughts and fantasies. Lifting his head, Drake Blackthorn fixes me with a black-and-gold stare. "Hi," he says, and—this is one of those times were reality is *definitely* better than fantasies—his voice sends shivers up and down my back. His voice sounds relaxed, as if I never left, and I have to swallow a few times before I can speak. 

"Hi," I croak out—my throat is suddenly dry. I stumble over to the drinks-stand and I drink whiskey in great gulps straight from the carafe. Its hotness burns my throat, but it does nothing for me, and after a few seconds I turn back round, and face…*him*.

  He is staring at me, and I can't look back at him, so I look around my room. "How have you been?" he asks, softly, his voice a caress to my ears. "Oh, you know," I babble. "Fine. Living. Or kind of, you know us vampires, we're not really living, we're more—"

 A whoosh of air and my words die in my throat; he is standing right in front me. Softly—in slow motion to me—he reaches out and trails one of my red-highlights. A rush of feelings go through me like elemental water, and suddenly—this always seems to happen with him—great tears fall from my eyes. 

This time, he doesn't wipe them away. He just brings his hands round my waist, and suddenly I am where I was meant to be; enveloped in his arms. My head finds his shoulder, fitting him perfectly, and my tears stop instantly. Its too good being held by him, and if this is a dream, I dont want to wake up for a long, LONG time—make that ever.

 But alas, it's not a dream, and he lets go of me after a few minutes, though he keeps hold of my hand and leads me over to the chair he was sitting in. Thoughts flash through my head. What's he doing here? How did he find me? What does he want? But the answers come soon as he sits me down and sits on the floor in front of me. He is still holding my hand. "Why did you leave?" he asks, looking at me.

"Straight to the point, huh?" I joke to mask my discomfort, but of course he does not find it funny. He just looks at me with those dark eyes, and I can't even lie. "I couldn't stay. It was too dangerous."

He shakes his head. "What do you mean?"   
I sigh. "Come on, Drake. What do you think I could mean?" I shrug his hand off and get up, facing the dark windows and imagining the scene if ever anyone found out. "Everyone would be out to kill us. We would have no peace." I turn and face him. "There is no way we can work."

 He gets up and walks towards me. "Why not?"

 I shake my head, and look away from him. "Don't be silly, you know what I mean."

"No, I dont. Why dont you enlighten me?" His voice has hardened almost imperceptibly, but of course I can hear it. Yet, I cannot get angry. I know he is only doing it because of this soulmate connection. It does not mean I have to like it, however.

"Drake, we cannot be together. There are people after me, and people after you." He has lifted one eyebrow, and I am surprised by how familiar that look on his face is. I know it is the same one that graces my features whenever I do not want to listen to something.

 Sighing again, I begin to feel myself get exasperated. "Look, Drake, you yourself wanted to kill me when we first met!"

 At that moment, I know I had gone to far with what I'd said.

 The look in his eyes hardens until the black almost obliterated the gold spots, and his lips are set in a straight line. If I was so not so strong, I am sure his look would have frozen me. But I am strong, and I hold his gaze, matching him look for look. 

At last he turns away, and while he walks back to the chair, a shudder passes through me inwardly. I might be strong, but I am not that strong. His presence is so intense that it unnerves me. Even now, I can feel the soulmate link, murmuring to my mind. I may be one of the oldest, and I may have years and years on Drake Blackthorn, but there is infinite darkness to him. Something that even I would have a hard time comprehending. 

Drake sprawls in the chair, and the look in his eyes has softened, though I am not fooled. I do not move, and continue to look at him. This time, however, it is I who backs down after a long moment. I turn and hoist myself up on the window seat, and when I am seated I do not look back at him. I look at the floor, admiring the carpet I've seen a million times before.

I feel him staring at me, and I know his eyes are pensive. He is thinking, but he has cloaked the soulmate bond so I cannot feel what about. To be honest, I am glad. Being so near him is giving me a headache.   
Yet there is a profound sense of comfort having him only feet from me. I wonder how I managed to be without him for almost half a year. 

But of course, I did not. I see that now he is near me again. The past months had been…well, lets just say that I, Sierra Rion, seasoned vampire, had trouble dealing.

 But I will have to deal.

Later, though. Right now, I can't take much more of his stare on me, so I stand up and walk toward the door. "Choose any bedroom you want," I say when I reach the door handle. "You're free to stay here." He does not answer, and I am slightly surprised. I know he is not one for sulking.

So I look. Big mistake. Because just as I turn my head, I realise he has stood up to be only inches away from me. 

I glance up to find his eyes only inches above mine, and his lips only inches below that.

Oh God, who said that vampires were cold? Au contraire, I can feel his body warmth emanating, bathing me. He is watching me with hooded eyes, but still I feel the static sparkle out of them.

He reaches out and tilts my chin up, so my lips are only millimetres away from his. I am feeling decisively hotter by the minute—no make that seconds—oh Goddess, can vampires spontaneously combust? 

His lips brush mine, and static bursts up. My eyes close involuntarily then snap open again. He is watching me, still way too close, but with eyes that show surprise. I get the feeling he did not expect what just happened.

Neither did I. I'm trembling, shaking, all from one tiny kiss, although God knows what I've been up to for the past thousands of years.

But my so-called soulmate has not finished his sweet torture.

"Any bedroom?" he asks, his voice deeper. I wet my lips to speak, but that doesn't work, so I only nod. A faint smile touches his lips, and he leans even closer, his breath caressing my neck as he whispers in my ear. "How about yours?"

Mesmerised by the sound of his voice, it takes a second for the words to sink in. And then I'm mad.

"What?" I yell, furious at his insinuations. I may be 15 thousand years old, but I do *not* just jump into bed with anyone. Including my soulmate.

Drake is watching me, his lip curling into a smile. 

I am Not Pleased.

But just as I open my mouth to give him a piece of my mind, something wrenches violently, horribly, agonizingly painfully somewhere in my stomach, and I stagger back, falling down. 

The pain…_oh God_…I grit my teeth to keep from crying out as waves of agony crash over me.

~*~

_Sometime earlier…_

"Hurry up, Witch…or I could start getting bored. Or hungry."

"Topaz," Devon warns softly, although he can fully understand her frustration. The Midnight witch he is paying good money is larking about. He trains his ice-blue eyes on the young man in front of him. "Hurry up, Medric."

Medric nods, Devon notices absently, but the witch also is looking decisively unhappy. Topaz on the other hand, is sitting outside the circle drawn in her living room, her face expressionless—except for her eyes…those…

They burn, Devon realizes. They burn with the intensity of a scored lioness. Burn with the intensity of a lioness that's lost her kin and her kill all at the same time. And Topaz looks as if she's getting ready to hunt.

Devin blinks, not willing to look to deep into those eyes. He is centuries old, but Topaz…she scares him. 

A brief memory flashes through his mind, three days ago when Topaz kicked his door down. 

She had been angry, yet frantically worried underneath that blazing inferno of fury. "Sierra!" she'd shouted, hunting through the house. He'd stepped out, having picked up on the maelstrom of emotions flashing through the apartment.

Sierra, she explained, has disappeared. Five months, Topaz had said, and counting. 

_I dont know where she is. And I'm worried._

Devon had looked at her, his eyes taking in her anger that concealed the anxiousness, and he'd nodded. He too had been worried. Sierra, he'd thought, knew how to take care of herself. But she would never have disappeared without telling them.

So he'd made the arrangements. He'd found the spell and found the witch to perform it. And all the while, in the back of his head, the thought that maybe…maybe it had been *his* fault. He, who had send her after his hunter.

Devon shakes his head, dispelling such thoughts, looking at the Witch instead, repeating himself. "Medric. Hurry."

Medric raises his hands, his voice gravely intoning words that mean nothing to the two vampires in the room. But they feel the Power as it drains out of Medric and into the circle. It becomes a cone, and Devon steps back, as the dark Power lashes out.

I hope he can control this, Devon thinks, a skitter of fear moving through him.

Because the one thing that Devon fears most is Witchpower…even though his one and only is one of them. 

NO! Devon shook his head briefly, pushing down those memories. You will not rise again, he thinks with utter conviction. _Leave me be. _

Topaz is hissing, leaning back just as he is. The room gets hotter and hotter, and soon it feels as if a fire is banking. 

But only the Fire seems cold.

The cone becomes deeper yellow; changing from the blue…and suddenly he sees a shape…

~*~

The pain is horrible, excruciating. It reminds me of the time I was changed—against my will.

Drake is on the floor, shaking me. "Sierra!" he shouts, his worry—and fear. Fear!—displayed in that one word.

I'm gasping, trying to breathe, trying to ask what is going on. His hands are supporting me, bare flesh connecting with mine. And it gives me the way.

~What is happening~ I ask, my mental voice laced with pain I know he can feel.

~I dont know!~ he is frantic—and I can't blame him. It feels as if I'm dying. And then something worse happens.

The air in front of me shimmers yellow, and suddenly—briefly—it disappears. It feels as if I've been yanked out and back in. It is the most disconcerting feeling. Almost as if I've been—transported.

~NO!~ the shout is what brought me back. Drake is holding me now, cradling me in his arms. He is looking at me with the oddest expression in his eyes…could it be…

A sharp new pain and I scream out loud—the sound striking into his heart. His eyes are finally showing. Showing what he was hiding.

Worry. Fear. Pain…anguish.

And through all his bravado I see he did not fare any better than I did through these past months. 

~Stay with me…please~ he asks, frowning deeply, the pain he is feeling briefly becomes my own as I slowly; hesitantly reach out to touch his cheek.

And then something hooks its sharp blade behind my heart and _jerks_, and before I can even answer—before I can scream—I disappear and reappear.

Into a room where fire burns and my skin seems to sear. All of a sudden I am screaming again, because oh, the one thing we vampires hate almost as much as wood—is fire.

And this fire seems to hurt so much more – but it suddenly disappears, coolness instead bakes my skin.

But by now I am swaying and then I faint—but not before a scream reaches me, anguish and horror laced in an intricate pattern…

~NOOO!!!~

_~Oh I am what I am_

_I'll do what I want_

_but I can't hide_

_I won't go~_

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Flame me if you must, just let me know why, and if you loved it, even more reason to let me know! **Review!**

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	7. Chapter Six

****A Lost Tale****

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**Disclaimer:** The Night World has come out of the Universe that is the mind of Lisa Jane Smith, Goddess of Magnificent writing.

**Rating:** The reason I have put one of these in here is because this is an action story. There's lots o fighting, moderately bad language, but only because of the impact it has. Please don't read this if you know you are too young. You have been warned.

**Author's Note**: Sorry for the delay: I fell ill. Many thousands of thanks to **Penguin** and **Arrylle** (previously known as **Leanne**). Chapter six has shown! Enjoy please, I made it a little longer for y'all. Next part will take about 4-5 days to come out. Please review! I NEED those reviews, I'll…I'll even give you cookies and milk! Please comment? Please?

**Enjoy:**

**A Lost Tale:**

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**Chapter six******

_~Save me from the nothing I've become.  
Bring. Me. To. Life~_

I am floating in a pearly light, feeling better than I have for aeons. Mmmhh, I sigh deeply, this is nice. Without a doubt I know I'm dead, and the only thing that disturbs the perfect peace I feel is the sorrow of losing Drake. I know he'll miss me—soulmates are designed that way—but I know he's better off without me. A voice is doubtful inside me, but I hush it. 

Its true, I tell it. He'll be fine without me.

It's only then I sigh, and settle back into full-blown relaxedness. Its good, I think, to think nothing. Living for fifteen millennia can tire one out, you know. I am tired, tired of life. And it is then I realize…

Dying is good. So long as you dont wake up afterwards.

But it seems the Gods do not favour me, even in a situation such as this. Because pretty soon, soft muted sounds reach my weary ears. A voice…no two, they are arguing, albeit softly.  
Then the pearly light changes to soft hues of blue and red, oozing through my closed eyelids.

Inwardly I rage at the Gods, *why* couldn't they let me be? Death would have been merciful. Outwardly, I move. A slight movement of my fingers do not hurt, but when I try to lift my hand, red-hot agony sears through. I make a muffled yell, only adding to the pain. Dimly I realise the two vices have stopped as I try to fight the ache that wants to consume my body.

With a mighty struggle I manage to open my eyes. The light hurts and I have to blink several times before I can see what's going on. I glance at the ceiling, then close my eyes, unable to bear the pure white of it. There is something wrong with my hand I feel. It hurts so much to move my head, to open my eyes. But my hand…I look at it. 

Red.

My beautiful brown skin is _RED_. 

I _scream_, bolting upright. Pain erupts through me and I scream again, partly from shock as my eyes stare dumbly at my hands. 

_Both_ of them are red. Red. Red. Red.

"Sierra! Calm down!" Hands grab my shoulders, truing to push me back on to the bed. They are trying to help, I know, but they're only adding to my pain. I struggle, pushing the hands off me, still staring at my hands. 

Pain. Pain. Pain. That's all I can feel.

I sag back against the hands that aren't letting go, whimpering as the hurt settles into my bones. "Ouch," I mutter.

"What an understatement." The voice is cool, the accent mesmerising when it whispers. My eyes have closed again – oh my, the pain – but I open them at that sound.

"Devon?" I croak, my coal chords so dry I cough and rasp. A glass is put to my lips and I drink deeply, tasting warm salty blood.

_Ah, the nectar of life._

I blink rapidly, my eyes becoming accustomed to the white glare of the room. Then I see who has offered me the drink. 

"Topaz?" I mutter.

My friend – oh, how good it is to see her – is grinning at me, the colour in her eyes so magnified it almost hurts. Behind her stands Devon, his unearthly face beautiful in the light.

My friends. Strange, but I can truly say I've missed them.

My eyes sag shut and I lean back against the pillows. Dimly I realise they have put something in my food – vampire tranquillisers, no doubt. I try to open my eyes, try to ask something, anything – but I can't. Darkness steals in to grab me, drift me away on a bed of blissful oblivion.

I sleep.

~*~

The next time I wake, it is considerably calmer. My eyes flicker open, the white less of a glare now. Heaving myself up on the pillows, I steal a glance at my hands again. But I can't see anything; they're wrapped in bandages. Still, it's easy to feel they're much in the same condition as before.

Now I can finally steal a look at my surroundings. I am alone, in a room that's completely and utterly white. Dimly I think they should fire their decorator, the colour is giving me a headache. As far as I can see, there is only my bed, a bedside table and a chair.

A door is at the furthest corner. One wall is completely made of glass windows that show me a view that I can't recognise. 

This place looks like a hospital, which is laughable since I've never been anywhere near one. 

_What the hell happened?_

All I can remember is…is…

_Black eyes with gold specks. A smile so sensuous it can leave you gasping._

The door opens and there they come, mismatched friends of mine. There is something wrong, I can see it, but they do not say anything. Instead Topaz sits on my bed while Devon sits on the chair. 

Topaz traces a finger down my bandaged hands. "I'm sorry," she says, muttering. I'm confused, shake my head. "Sorry? For what?"

But before she can answer the door opens again and in walks Incia. She offers me a bright smile, and I smile back, I can't help it.

"Ah, if you wanted my magic touch you could have just asked," she laughs. I chuckle, wincing when my broken ribs register.

_Broken ribs?_

That's it.

"Topaz," I say dangerously. "What—"

"Keep still," Incia orders, interrupting. I am about to ignore her when yellow fire streams out of her hands, bathing me in a pastel colour. An unpleasant image of fire flits into my mind, gone before I can grab it. 

My body heals, knitting itself into place with painful accuracy, growing new skin that stretches stiffly and then smoothes itself out.

I push up my millennia old pain barrier, bearing it all with gritted teeth.

It is minutes before Incia steps back and sighs, stroking a tiring hand along her forehead, sighing, "It's done." And it is only now I realise she is strong, far stronger than I thought her to be.

Devon springs up, putting a hand on her waist and leading her away from the door, only throwing a smile back at me. I'm grateful that he's going. It gives me the chance to talk to Topaz.

As soon as the door closes, I turn to her with an increased air of determination and open my mouth.

"Check yourself," she says. I grit my teeth, a surge of anger rearing its head in me. Growling softly – I know she can hear – I rip off the bandages off my hands, my eyes widening when I see my skin.

Brown! _My beautiful colour is back_. I know its stupid, but I can't resist rubbing my hands affectionately and raising them both to place a kiss on them.

"See?" I say. "I Feel fine. Great." Its true. I feel normal. Almost. 

Topaz laughs and I look up at her. "Now will you tell me what's going on?"

She loses the laugh and looks nervous, getting up to pace about. "Topaz," I say softly, warning her to speak quickly.

She turns to me, spreads her hands. "I didn't know what else to do," she said, defensively. "I tried to reach you with my mind, but I couldn't."

"What?" I stare at her, confused.

"You never even let me know where you went!"

"Went?"

"Disappeared! Like that!" she clicked her fingers loudly. "And _no one_ knew where you'd gone!"

"Topaz," I say.

"After promising to work together, you _dis-a-ppeared_!"

"Topaz—"

"So you can't blame me for what I did—"

"_What did you do?"_ I interrupt forcibly, halting her just as she's about to open her mouth and bellow again.

She plonks into the chair Devon vacated and sighs, closing her eyes. Her voice is so quiet, so remorseful that even my vampire ears have to strain to hear the words.

"We used the _Tăch Muír_."

"You _*summoned me*_?!" My voice is low, but so strong in its intensity that I am shaking, my hands balling into fists as anger surges through me.

_They summoned me. Summoned me. Without my permission!! _

I get out of the bed, stand at the window.

The _Tăch Muír._ An ancient Celtic Summoning spell that Topaz and I discovered on one of our worldly roams. It does more than call the intended so they come by themselves. It _transports_ them, at great pain. We had tried it when we got out hands on it, calling a vampire whom had managed to evade my assassins knife a few to many times. When he'd appeared in the fire cone created by the spell, he'd screamed horribly before burning up in front of our eyes. 

We had promised _never_ to use it on each other.

I wonder how I survived.

"That's what you did to me?" I say, turning back to her. Topaz has lowered her face into her hands. She nods wordlessly.

I shake my head slowly and spread my hands, still facing her. "Why?" I ask.

Topaz looks up sharply. "Why?"

"Yes! Why?"

She comes to me, my topaz-eyed friend, and shakes my shoulders. "Why? You disappeared for six months!"

"Five," I mutter unable to bear the look in her eyes. I wonder what I put her through.

"Without contacting me!" she goes on. "After Devon had sent you after that guy, I thought…" she sighs, forcing me to look at her. I thought you'd died."

That hurts. I grab her and hug her fiercely. "Never," I say when I release her. She nods, a mute expression on her face.

"Si," she speaks hesitantly. "Where did you go?"

_Oh no.  I can't. I can't._

I turn away, face the window. 

"Si?" Topaz says, touching a hand to my shoulders. And for the first time I find myself withholding information from her, my only *true* friend.

"Nowhere. I went nowhere, did nothing." _Except die a sweet death._

She doesn't believe me. I can see it in her reflection in the glass. Her eyebrow lifts in one smooth movement. "Nothing?"

What am I supposed to say? _I found my soulmate, but he wanted to kill me. He still might want to. Oh, and by the way, he wants to kill Devon. Probably you too. So I ran away, like a coward. Then he found me. And in the midst of our tender reconciliation, *you* tried to kill me._

Huh, even to me that sounds stupid.

I steel myself, and turn to face my best friend. Then I laugh a brittle laugh. "Nothing, babe. I just partied. In New York."

Inside I hurt at the lie.

Topaz still doesn't believe me. She glances away. "But – when you said Drake Blackthorn—"

I flinch violently at the mention of that name; glad she's studying the tile floors and can't see me. 

"— maybe he'd gotten to you?" Topaz is still speaking, and it's with difficulty I focus on her.

"No," I say, maybe a bit too quickly. "No, he didn't." I swallow over the lie and go back to the bed to lie down. "I'm tired," I mutter, not at all lying.

"Okay," Topaz says, and her voice tells me she doesn't believe me. But she goes to the door, smiles at me and gets out. 

Then I bolt upright, rubbing my face and trying hard not to think of Drake.

_Oh God. Oh God._

_How_ had he found me? Why had he found me? 

The soulmate link is silent, as silent as it had been in the six months that I was in Mauritius, hiding away. It feels as if a part of me has been cut away, and I suppose it has.

_Curse this soulmate link!_

_Why_ me? _Why_ Drake Blackthorn, notorious Night World Lord?

And _why_ am I here, while he is _there_?

Tentatively I reach with my mind, softly touching mental-fingers to the link. 

Cold. Empty.

I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to kill someone.

Most of all – I wish I could die.

~*~

He _screamed_ at the heavens. Smashed a few tiles by stamping his foot on top. Sent some lightning into the sky.

But nothing, nothing worked. 

Gone.

So many questions were tumbling through his head. Why? How? Who?

Balancing on a flat portion of the roof of the magnificent house that had her scent all around in, he sent his power out in an ever-widening circle. But, alas, he was only part-witch. Only part-powerful.

He cursed, long and hard, in nine different languages. Then he drew his power back, sensing it wouldn't work.

He would go mad this time, he thought, if he couldn't find her. It was only by chance he had in the first place. A snippet of conversation overheard by being in the right place at the right time. 

Her thoughts had constantly been in his mind, her sweet mutterings, all through those six months.

_Damn it all to hell!_

He reached out, wrapping his vampiric mental powers with his magick, slipping into the soulmate link to search.

What he found made his head hang.

Cold. Empty.

He looked up, staring at a star. Flinging his thoughts out, pushing them as far as they could go.

I'll find you. I'll find you…even if I have to go the ends of the earth! 

~~~

~There'll come a time you die,   
if you could only hold her.~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~end~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hope y'all enjoyed that! Even if you hated it, please let me know by clicking below! (Wow, that rhymes! ~_^ )


	8. Chapter Seven

****A Lost Tale****

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**Disclaimer:** The Night World is owned by Lisa Jane Smith. Characters are owned my moi!

**Rating:** The reason I have put one of these in here is because this is an action story. There's lots o fighting, moderately bad language, but only because of the impact it has. Please don't read this if you know you are too young. You have been warned.

**Author's Note**: Sorry for the delay again: my comp had a breakdown. Many thousands of thanks to **Penguin** and **Arrylle** and **Pandie Katteken** and **Connor**. Here's chapter seven and it is quite long too. And I've made it very actiony just for Penguin (who likes action, I hear *lol*). This is not  agreat part because I don't feel too great, but it is moderate, I think. Enjoy anyway. 

I am begging you to review, since I could use all of your reviews! Please hit that button! I'll pay ya, I will!

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**Enjoy!**

**A Lost Tale:**

**Chapter Seven:**

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_~Call me with your inner voice  
~Answer with screams that enter my heart_

****

I am in Darklight, sipping on a Bloody Mary – with blood – and watching Devon and his soulmate dancing on the dance floor. I have no clue where Topaz is; Amrick and her disappeared from her flat – where I reside – some hours ago.

I am itching to get out there, to dance, to shake of my frustrations.

For it has been a month. Four weeks and thirty days since I disappeared from _his_ grasp. I'm not sure if I should be happy or angry, upset or feel sorry about that, but anything, _anything_ besides this empty feeling inside me. I cannot take it anymore, feeling as though my heart has taken a trip out of my chest.

Oh, but I am tired of thinking about it. Gulping down the remainder of my drink I get up and wade into the heaving masses that occupy the dance floor. A dance song starts and I dance hard and fast, shaking my head from left to right hard enough to snap my neck.

I don't care. Perhaps it will stop these thoughts. 

Dressed in black leather trousers and a black sleeveless top that stretches across my torso and silver that glints at my throat and ears, I make a stunning picture. 

I know I am not a bad dancer, my vampiric grace helping me, and soon a dancer joins me. He is beautiful (what did you expect?), blond with blue eyes. He curls his lips into a flirty expression and I grin right back. His eyes are so cold it is slight surprise to the system, but I am thousands of years old and do not scare easily. He tells me his name is Vlad and I feel like telling him mine is Dracula, but don't. 

We do a dance that's more seduction on the dance floor and pretty soon we end up in a corner, where our shifting become even less dancing and more alcohol induced moves – although on my part I only want to forget someone else's lips. 

The vampire kisses me and for a moment I respond. His lips are warm, and I am cold, and for a moment there is silence…and then…and then…

_Black with golden specks._

I snap my eyes open, pushing the vampire roughly off me, fear thudding a strong beat in me. Oh my god, I think as I look around frantically. What the hell was that?

"Hey, baby," says the vampire, reaching for me again. "We were having fun."

"Get off me," I growl, and shove him roughly off me. Then I turn and lope it outside to the little square at the back of the club.

It is freezing cold, but what should a millennia old vampire care? In fact, I welcome it, pulling it inside me, wishing it could freeze my heart too.

Maybe I am tempting the Fates by standing here, in this spot where Drake first sent his goons after my friends, but I doubt he knows where I am. I don't even think he's entered the country again. 

Oh yes, I have been keeping my ear close to the ground.

"Hey baby, where did ya go?" 

I am startled, but I hide it well as I turn slowly and face Vlad.

He is walking toward me slowly as I stand my ground. There is something decidedly empty about his eyes and I narrow my own. 

"Weren't we having fun?" he asks, stopping feet from me.

"No," I say shortly. "Now _vamoose_."

Vlad's eyes freeze even more if possible and anger sparks to life in them. Something far more dangerous answers that look in my chest.

"No one talks to me that way, bitch." He growls and shouts something in Latin. Since I spent several hundred years in Rome I understand it.

"_Come to me!" he says and suddenly five goons fill the tiny square. A strong sense of déjà vu hits me._

But this time, it'll be my pleasure.

I quickly assess those around me; seeing they're all vampires. _Good. _

The goons are face me, standing in a circle. Vlad has this weird, triumphant look on his face, as if he expects me to beg for mercy.

He seems surprised when I laugh softly. Spreading my arms wide, I say, "you know, in ancient China a woman was allowed to emasculate a man who won't leave her alone. It's a forgetting concept, actually." I wink at him, feeling mirth rise up in me. 

"What the hell does that mean?" he growls. 

"I spent a thousand years in Ancient China, my friend," I say, laughing again. 

"So? You talk a load of bull, bitch," he snaps.

I grit my jaw and stop laughing. In a smooth movement I twist a wooden knife from it's strap on my arm and throw it at one of the goons. He keels over, dead before he realises he is.

Vlad's eyes are so large they're almost comical. But I am no longer in a laughing mood. 

"Come on," I whisper, twisting into a fighting stance. They run at me, a blond one reaching me first. What they don't know is that I know 12 of the Ancient Martial Arts inside out and I launch myself in the air effortlessly, twisting and sliding a knife out of my boot. It's a second to stick it into him and he crumples down. 

With a triumphant yell, I land on top the wall that closes off the square. My feet automatically grip the three-inch ledge and I look down at those left.

"And then there were four," I whisper, knowing they can hear me. "Come and get me, boys!"

And I jump off, landing smack in the middle of traffic. A car is thundering down at me and for a moment I see the driver's face twisted with surprise.

I am insane, but not suicidal. I yell, jumping straight up, my millennia old legs screaming in protest as I launch myself five feet into the air. Landing painfully on a moving car, I teeter dangerously then jump off onto the pavement with a twist. 

The human by lookers are so surprised they're gaping at me, and I give them a mock bow. A knife whizzes by where my head was seconds ago.

Turning, I see Vlad and his friends jumping across the road. 

_Oh, shit._

I turn and run, weaving through the Saturday night crowds, but not stretching to my full powers. I want them to follow, want them to catch me.

Oh, I am spoiling for a good fight.

Pausing for effect, I run onto a deserted, suburban street.

"There she is," Vlad shouts. I almost laugh out loud as I stop and twist neatly, facing them.

They are not out of breath. I am enjoying myself.

"Oh, my God," I say, placing the back of my hand on my forehead dramatically. "You've caught me!"

Stepping closer and wrapping my arms around myself, I laugh, "Please, big Vlad, don't scare a little girl like me!"

Vlad growls and steps forward, but one of his friend's stops him. "I want a piece of her," he says. He has dark colouring, shades darker than mine. And he is fast, running toward me in a blur of movement, knocking me down before I realise it. I hit the floor hard, groaning as the wind is knocked out of me.

I jump up, snarling, placing a kick on his chest that sends him staggering back. I move in with a punch, letting rip my millennia old powers, all my frustrations and anger. Then I grab his head, twisting it forcefully, enjoying the way his neck snaps. He drops like a ton of bricks

I turn to Vlad, sliding a third knife out of my pocket. Come on, come on, come on, I think, flipping the knife from side to side.

But they're not moving. Vlad has stepped back and lets two of his goons come. I slid my fourth and final knife out of my boot. They near me and circle me, snarling and growling. 

I smile sweetly and launch my knives. One sticks in a chest and he dies. The other lodges in an arm and he brushes that off, growling and ignoring the blood that seeps out of his arm. He runs at me and I grab his arm, twisting it around and snapping it.

With a forceful jump I kick his knee, breaking that too, so he falls. Then I walk over, stepping on his other knee so it shatters. His cry of pain is music to my ears.

I break his foot, then his other arm, hand and wrist. He is a bloodied mess by the time I pick up my knife and position it over his heart.

"Bye," I smile sweetly, and push it down. The light fades in his eyes to a dull yellow.

Then I stand to face Vlad. He has produced a sword from somewhere and is walking toward me, though his face is suddenly so much paler.

"Now I know who you are," he says. "Sierra Rion, isn't it?"

I smile. "I see I'm famous."

"Your killing method is notorious. I will be famous as the one who killed you," he says and swings his sword in a round arc.

I admit he is good, agile and fast. But I am thousands of years old and have learned hundreds of fighting techniques from hundreds of ages and lands – and he is nothing to me. 

He has forgotten his sword is only metal.

He jabs it at me and I spin away, but he catches me with a kick that hurts. Hissing, I back off.

And then he attacks. Swinging and jabbing, he jumps toward me and it is all I can do not to end up as shish kebab.

I twirl and twist and dodge and plainly run away at times.

We are two blurs of clothing.

Until he stops, his chest heaving as he wipes sweat off his forehead. I am slightly out of breath, but have saved the best until last. And then he catches me off the guard, stabbing deep into my arm with a totally surprising move.

I _scream_ in pain, cos even metal _hurts_! I snarl a thousand abusive words at him, which he all ignores. I'd staggered back, but now I straighten.

For a moment, I wish my love were there.

And then Vlad is running at me, and I don't care if I die, and I grab the sword he has pointed at me straight by blade so it cuts deep in my skin, black blood squirting out. I twist it up furiously and snap it out of his hands. Flipping it over to my other hand I swing it in a high arc, lopping off Vlad's head in a smooth movement.

"Don't call me bitch!" I scream at his head, which rolls down the street.

Oh yes, I am insane.

And then I'm running, and I can't remember where, all I see are faces and people and I am sick of these years and minutes spent empty and all I want to is —

I stare at deep dark water, realising I am on a bridge. I can't take the silence anymore. The emptiness.

I jump, relishing the cool that will slam into me in a second and I am falling…falling—

And then a hand grabs me, snapping me back.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Topaz yells as she drags me back onto the bridge.

_Oh, why couldn't you have let me die?_

"Si, please talk to me," she says, stroking my head, holding me to her. "Please," she murmurs. 

"What is wrong?"

I burst into tears that are not a relief but bring more pain. "Drake Blackthorn," I choke out. 

_Drake Blackthorn!_

~*~

He sat at his desk, dismissing yet another idiot that came to tell him of something else that Circle Daybreak had managed to grab from under their noses.

But his mind was somewhere else. 

_Café au lait skin and wild brown-red hair._

Drake shook his head violently. 

Still…his underlings could not understand why he wanted to find her but they did his bidding; searching and searching – but it seemed that Sierra Rion had disappeared off the face of the planet.

Drake felt the despair tighten in his heart.

He had to find her…he *had* to…otherwise…

He shuddered, not wanting to think about the stories that told of what happened to those whose link shattered. Not wanting to think about the Mad Ones, the insanity that lurked behind their eyes…

_Drake Blackthorn!_

He bolted upright, his head snapping left and right as the yell resounded in his ears.

It was she! Her! Where the hell was she? How had she reached him?

And then he swung his powers after that call, stretching them as far as he could. But the sound was fading fast and in a moment it was gone.

Still, he had a city now.

Drake Blackthorn smiled.

_Sierra Rion…I'm coming for you…_

_~The day is the night when you're with me  
~And when you're not I drown in the Sea_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~end~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Review! Please-oh-please-oh-please!**


	9. Chapter Eight

****A Lost Tale****

**Disclaimer:** The Night World is owned by Lisa Jane Smith. Characters are owned my insane brain!

**Rating:** The reason I have put one of these in here is because this is an action story. There's lots of fighting, moderately bad language, but only because of the impact it has. Please don't read this if you know you are too young. You have been warned.

**Author's Note**: Finally! I'd written this a while back, but I was just waiting for some reviews to come in. **Thank** you so much to all who reviews, ( I was sitting there, reading them with a huge grin on my face *lol*). You are all fantastic and _detrimental_ to my health *lol*. I guess I got a little carried away with this part, as it's very long, but I hope you're enjoying it. I'll start working on the next part on Wednesday and have it out hopefully within a week.

Again, **PLEASE** review! I need those views to shape this story into a good one! Please comment and make me happy!! *lol*

**Sharmeen:** *blush* Thank you so much for the fantastic review, and yes, I used a black main character because 1) it _is_ a change from the Buffy-look-alike I see (*lol*) and 2) I need Sierra for, perhaps, a spin –off story one day. But thanks and keep R/R!

**Penguin:** *lol* I knew you'd like that. Sorry this one isn't so actiony but it has a few tiny kernels. The next part should have some action, but to be completely honest, I have no clue where this story is going. I'm just kinda sitting down and writing. But thanks and please keep reading!

**Arylle Gamere:** *grins ridiculously* Thanks so much! Wow, am loving these reviews! Please keep reading, I love to hear your views, so please keep them coming!

**Medusa Descoudres:** *laughs* Thank you! Enjoy this part, and keep reading! I love the fact that you're loving it!

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**Enjoy!**

**A Lost Tale:**

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**Chapter Eight:**

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_~My soul is empty and then it fills~  
~My heart reaches out and then it kills~_

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"Remind me why I have to do this again?" I ask, turning away from the full-length mirror, disgusted with my appearance.

Topaz looks at me, her eyes so large and luminous that they seem gateways to her soul. She smiles absently as she checks her look again in the mirror. "Do I look okay?" she asks, tugging at her topaz-coloured dress that ends in ruffles, six inches up from her knees. The neckline is deep and daring, showing off her thick, diamond necklace. On her hands and wrists glitter more diamonds. 

I smile at her nervousness. Who said only humans suffered from that feeling? "You look perfect," I say, understanding her emotions. Tonight we are off to a party, combining both Daybreakers and Night Worlders. It is supposed to be a truce – albeit temporarily – and Amrick, Topaz's soulmate, has invited us both. The soulmates have not seen each other in weeks, although I fail to see why I should come too.

"Again – why do I have to be there?" I repeat.

I do not want to go. 

Why should I? There is a brittle feeling inside me, as if I'll snap at any moment. My nights are filled with dreams of eyes so black and hair so wonderfully tousled I itch to run my hands through the locks. I wake gasping, only to relish falling back asleep.

And during the day…during the day I see his face everywhere.

I wish I was blind, but I have a sneaking suspicion that that would make no difference whatsoever.

Topaz turns away from the mirror and faces me, answering my question. "Because we need to get out. Because we have stayed inside for long enough. Because, Si—" she pauses, her eyes searching mine. "Si, you're not _you_." 

My heart constricts at her words – but what can I say?

She shakes her head then abruptly her face clears and she laughs wickedly. "And because we're the two most notorious Night World assassins, and we _need_ to make an entrance."

I chuckle, the laughter releasing something in me. Topaz laughs with me, passing me my jewellery case where I select my onyx necklace and matching bracelet. My hair I run a brush through, leaving it down.

Simplicity is the best method. I hear.

For an added look I tousle my hair, then briefly finger-comb it down. In the mirror, my vampiric beauty stares back.

If I do say so myself, I look stunning.

But in my intensely brown eyes, there is a sadness etched so deep that I have to breathe and close my eyes.

Topaz touches my shoulder. "Let's go."

I nod, and we leave the apartment. Outside, a black, stretch limousine awaits us. Who said Night Worlders can't do it in style?

We get in, giggling like two human seventeen year olds, the excitement catching us up.

We guzzle champagne as we lean back – the alcohol doing absolutely nothing for us – and the outside world whizzes us by. As we draw nearer and nearer, I see Topaz checking herself once again in the mirror and I can't help but laugh.

She is so cute.

We pass the river and momentarily my excitement is dampened as I think back to three weeks ago, when I had been ready to end it all. And I have not had this impulse since the days I met Topaz, my crazy days, when I tried to kill myself at least several times a day.

But never over someone else.

The days had blended into years and centuries and millennia, and then I could not deal with it.

But now…now it is over someone else.

_Damn you, Drake Blackthorn_, I think as I briefly close my eyes. _Damn you._

For a brief moment I wonder if he thinks of me, if he has this same yawning chasm in him as I do…

But oh, why do I care?

And yet…yet I can't help but remember his eyes as he had leaned toward me and the _fire_ and _power_ in that _gaze_…those _lips_ that caressed and kissed with such a mesmerising touch…those _arms_ that were steel bands lined with velvet as they held me, hugged me, cradled me…

I shiver in the limousine, drawing my arms around myself and shaking my head.

I am becoming a sap in my old years.

"Come on!" Topaz says and I realise that we have arrived at the mansion. Topaz pops out before the chauffeur comes around and I have to laugh. 

She is so excited.

I exit gracefully, looking every inch the sleek African huntress – but none like Sierra Rion, Master Assassin.

Although I'm sure many can recognise me, I doubt they would try anything here. The news of what I did to Vlad and their friends has spread like wildfire and added to my reputation –though I need it not.

We are treated to a red carpet and as I slide into the beautifully decorated mansion, I realise that I do not want to be there.

But Amrick has seen us already and he coming toward us and I'm stuck.

Damn.

Of course I lose Topaz immediately. She takes one look at her soulmate and she is off, disappearing into the taller guy's arms. There is a desperate fragility in the way they're holding each other and suddenly I remember his age. He'd turned eighteen a few weeks back. 

_Oh._

Of course. I'm sure Amrick has reservations against being turned into a vampire, considering both his parents were brutally murdered by vampires who'd hated witches. But in another year he will pass the age limit and be unable to change, and then what will Topaz do?

I know it would kill her, should he die before her. 

And he will. She is almost eight millennia old, already.

Staring at them, I realise for the first time what they feel. Reminders of my own predicament bring the melancholy crashing down again. I grit my teeth for a moment, anger so fierce it's a physical hurt surging against myself.

Then I sigh and walk away from the sight in front of me, walking toward one of the balconies. For the moment, it is empty – but I know pretty soon it will be filled with Night World couples making out. Somewhere in the house I can hear beautiful classical music starting. 

I smile as I lean against the railing, the night air playing a game with my hair. The Night World parties never change; first the older, more powerful vampires circulate the area, the younger ones vying for attention. And when the leaders disappear – either to a conference, or each with their human prize – the younger ones go downstairs to the basement where the _real _party begins.

I grin.

And although I am one of the older ones, I am not a leader…so I party with people of my own appearance. 

Tonight I should definitely make an appearance, as Topaz had suggested – although not for her reason. 

Of course I had not told her about Drake Blackthorn and I. How could I? How could I tell her that I have a soulmate, after expressively denying being with Drake Blackthorn? How could I let her know that he wanted me, that he would kill both her and Devon to get to me?

And yet…I know I would kill _him_ should he do that. 

No one messes with my friends.

Rubbing my head, I wish I could go home and lie down. But, fool that I am, I am in Las Vegas, instead of New York. I am at a party that I do not want to be at, smiling at people I would kill in an instant, should I meet them anywhere else.

Still. I cannot go. Along with the boost to my reputation, another rumour is going on. Apparently I am dead. This is not unusual. Every once in a while, someone 'does away' with me and I have to show my face to say I am still here, still alive.

Then I kill whoever started the rumour.

This party is just a place where I can find a lot of information, so easily. There is too much I have let go, since my supposed insanity. Too many think I have let _The Triad_ go. 

I grin at the name as the volume of the music increases.

The Triad. The three most lethal assassins this side of anywhere. Topaz, Devon and I. 

The oldest, I was the first lethal assassin. At first, I started this job because I was angry, and I could get paid for venting that anger. And I would take any job, anywhere in the world, doing anything, killing in any method possible.

There are quite a few times I died almost myself. 

But over the years, I have met every race and species and killed some of the worst creatures in this world. 

And then Topaz joined and we became the Two. When Devon joined the Triad became. 

I wonder what Incia, Devon's soulmate, thinks of his job. I have a sneaking suspicion he hasn't told her. I have a sneaking suspicion she knows.

I shake myself slightly, stirring myself out of memories that once were painful but now are welcomed. Anything apart from this _pain!_

Damn! Why did I have to think about him?

Gritting my teeth, I force my thoughts to think about what I came out here to do. A final third thing awaits me. I hear someone is looking for me. Apparently dangerous and I wonder if it's the new council leader. The council had been after me for a while, trying to get me to make up my mind and join them. They want me to pick off Daybreakers.

On top of Topaz probably killing me if I upset Amrick – I grin at the thought – I do not go after Daybreakers. They have enough to worry about.

No. And to emphasise that, I sent back the assassin they sent me. Of course, I sent him back in separate pieces.

It had been a pleasure. As meeting whoever is looking for me, will be.

For a brief, exhilarating moment I wonder if it is _him_, if he is searching for me. 

But I dismiss that in a second. Really, he knows where I am. Who I am. He can easily find me, or Topaz, or even Devon.

Unlike last time, everyone knows where I am. 

Turning, I look back at the doorway. The noise level has increased, and I realise everyone must be here. Suddenly, my vampiric ears pick up an unearthly booming and it is a second before I realise that it is coming from the basement.

I must have been standing here for hours, immersed in thought. 

A second later, a shifter couple comes through the door, kissing. They're so involved in each other they almost fall.

Shaking my head and grinning, I leave to give them privacy, stepping back into the room.

The upper area in the house is decorated in red tones, from almost orange to a deep burgundy and everything in between. There are witches, vampires, shapeshifters and 'wolves everywhere. For once, Daybreakers and Night Worlders are mixing, and there are no problems – apart from hostile glances left and right.

I spend a mere second glancing about for Topaz but I dont see her. I am not surprised if I do not see her at the party in the basement. She has probably disappeared with Amrick.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, I hear.

I walk away from the main room, led toward noise in another room. When I enter this one, I realise it is a ballroom and there are far, far more people here. Classical music is still playing and I realise the party in the basement must have begun only minutes ago.

I am itching to get down there and dance off my frustrations, but duty is duty. 

I stroll into the room, for once employing my vampiric grace. It is almost as if I _float_ across the floor, fifteen millennia worth of power and muscle gracing my body. 

I am drawing attention. Good.

Now, who said I was dead?

I don't _look_ dead. Glancing sideways, I catch my reflection in a mirror. For a moment, I study myself. I am wearing a pure white halter that leaves my arms bare and is tight on my upper body, flaring in a skirt that almost reaches my knees in a series of wide ruffles. It is Latino-type dress, its neckline almost as daring as Topaz's. The back plunges down, almost to my waist. White sandals grace my feet. The colour looks great on my café-au-lait complexion and my red-brown hair gives it an added mystique. 

Tonight, I am dressed to kill.

Then I grin and walk on, getting to the bar where I help myself to a Bloody Mary, which is fast becoming my favourite drink. Sipping slowly, I sit on a barstool, surveying the area. 

Oh yes. I can see the potential for trouble already. Some guys in a corner – vampires, I'd guess – are watching me, talking quickly amongst themselves. I wonder why they're not conferring mentally and then I realise – a mental voice here would be like screaming it out. With so many of us assembled, the only way to have privacy is to speak as quietly as possible.

One of them – seeming the leader – with blond-black hair is watching me the most intently, his eyes burning into me. And just to be perverse, I lift my glass at him and smile. For a moment I bunch all my mental power, concentrating hard. 

Then I slide a single fang out, baring it in a one-sided, feral grin. The guy blinks and turns away, talking even more quickly.

I laugh to myself as sip my drink. The mood for the evening has been set.

Then there is a small commotion at the door and my head snaps back, watching the door where a blond guy and a girl are locked in a quiet, but intense fight. Then the girl sighs exasperatedly – I can hear her from here – and wrenches her hand from the guy's grip. The girl starts off toward me, wearing black, leather pants and a deep purple halter top.

I watch her advance, recognising immediately she is human. Graceful, but nothing compared to Night Worlders. She has long brown hair and brown eyes, a sweet-looking thing. And then I look at the guy following her and I realise he is a vampire, almost as soon as I realise who he is. 

Ash Redfern.

I grin as I sip more of my Bloody Mary, remembering two years ago, when I'd knocked him out because he'd insisted on hitting on me.

So. If that's Ash Redfern, what is he doing with a human girl? She doesn't look as if she's under influence as she storms onto me and stops in front of me, squaring her shoulders.

"Hey," she says, suddenly seeming unsure.

"Hi," I reply drolly, giving her an assessing look. Before I can ask her who she is, Ash shows up.

"Mare," he says angrily, "I thought you were going to behave?"

"Sshh!" she says expressively, waving a hand at him. Then she turns to me. "Are you Sierra Rion?"

I stare at her for a second, then I give up the mental battle. "Who wants to know?" I ask, although she would have attacked me already had. The thought makes me grin inside.

Imagine. A human killed a Triad.

"I'm Mary…" she says, pausing and glancing at Ash. He has a stoic expression on his face, anger peaking as he looks at me.

"Hi, Ash," I say sweetly. "How's the wrist?" I'd snapped it on our previous meeting.

Mary's eyes darken as she looks from one to the next. "Do you know each other?" she asks. 

"No," says Ash.

"Yes," I say, grinning widely.

Ash doesn't look at me, but touches her bare arm and for a moment it is as if a secret communication passes between the two – and then I groan.

Not more soulmates!

Damnation take it, because I can't!

Angry, I clear my throat and they both look at me. "Cute as though this may be; can I help you?"

Mary grins and says, "I hear you're the one that killed Vladimir. Is that right?"

Slowly, I grin. Feral and dangerous and Mary steps back as for a moment, my age shines through my eyes. Ash has drawn nearer his soulmate and is watching me with hawkish, silver eyes. "Yes," I say slowly. "Problem?"

Mary surprises me by grinning. "No. He got exactly what he deserved." She glances down then up at me. "Thanks." Briefly she touches my hand then walks off, leaving Ash.

"A soulmate, Ash?" I say, tutting. "Wonders never cease."

Ash just shakes his head, and leans forward. "Vlad tried it on with Mary some weeks back. Because you killed him, I'm grateful." He lifts a hand to stop me speaking. "I know you didn't do it for us, but still. So, I'm telling you to be careful. Someone is here today, looking for you."

I lift an eyebrow; pleased he's helping me and surprised that whoever is looking for me is actually here. This makes my job easier.

"They're dangerous, and even a Triad is going to need some help. Some Daybreakers are around, just yell 'Hahna!' and they'll jump all over who's bothering you." Ash is silent for a moment, then fixes me with a look. "Thanks."

He lopes off after his girlfriend who is waiting for him and I am surprised. Daybreakers are helping me? Could it be because of Amrick?

Shaking my head I finish my drink, the blood in it giving me an extra boost and I hop off my chair, watching Ash embrace his girlfriend and lead her away. 

I shake my head. Ash Redfern and a soulmate.

_Sierra Rion and a soulmate._

I bet the Fates are laughing their heads off right about now, I think sourly as I leave the room. I think about the so-called codeword. Wasn't Hannah, Thierry's soulmate called Hahna once?

Ah, sometimes I can't keep up.

The house seems emptier, and the noise from downstairs is more and more appealing. I go toward the stairs, following a pair of sleek panther girls as they laugh in their husky, slightly purring way.

The basement door is a large metal door with a cat scratch on it. I am surprised; are they using a shifter's house?

Wonders never cease. It seems this time they really want to chill and have a good time.

"Hey babes," the doorman says and the girls laugh as they pass him. He turns toward me, the same greeting coming out of his lips, "Hey ba—" and then he freezes, getting a good look at me. "Miss Rion," he says, his voice slightly trembling. A surge of triumphant power goes through me and I smile. 

"Who's here?" I ask.

"The Triad," he says quickly, his eyes drawn to my hands. He's probably thinking of the way I snapped hundreds of heads so far. I only smile again, as I ask, "The girl?"

"No…the guy from Silverthorne."

Devon, I think. "Alone?" 

The guard nods.

"Who else?"

He is nervous, swallowing. And suddenly I am tired of people who mince their words and I step closer, for once not masking my voice to be that of an eighteen-year-old. No. I am fifteen millennia and showing it. Suddenly my voice is deep and floaty, its sounds sending shivers down my own back. The guard's eyes are showing white as he backs away. "_Who else_?" I ask again.

"Others," he says hurriedly. "I-I c-can't say w-who."

Ah. They must have spelled the poor 'wolf. 

I sigh and step back. "Very well," I say, indicating he should open the door. He does.

And I step into doom.

The music is deep and unearthly, some sort of mix between European music and void rock, I would guess. There is a distinct emptiness in the sounds, an emptiness that speaks to something inside me. I feel as if I am being pulled toward the dance floor, but I resist easily, frowning, wondering which witch put a spell on the music.

The dance floor is amazing to watch, the Night Worlders' bodies moving so graceful, it is almost like watching fluid limbs. 

Flicking my hair off my shoulders, I lift my head and descend the steps down to the floor. There are seats and couches against two sides, tables against another. The rest of the large floor up until the far wall – which is in shadows – is for the dance floor.

The whole array is impressive. There is barely any lighting, most of the lighting focused upward and only blue and red. The look is definitely striking.

To get to the bar, where the seats are, I have to get through the dancing floor. I walk through the heaving bodies; their arms flailing and I feel irritation leap up in me. A guy smiles and grabs me around the waist, hugging me to him and dancing sexily. 

_Oh, to hell with it._

I grab at his throat, pinching his windpipe shut with two fingers. His air is immediately blocked and he claws at my hand, fighting to inhale. 

"Don't touch me," I say softly and push him off. Crashing to the floor, he coughs, inhaling great bursts of air.

Then I walk off, toward the bar where Devon has turned around and is watching my approach with humour in his eyes. 

I pluck a kiss on his lips as a greeting and he bumps my shoulder. "What was that?" he asks.

I shrug, requesting a Bloody Mary.

"Another Vlad?" he asks.

"Perhaps. I don't care. He was irritating me."

Devon laughs as he throws his head back, his voice deep and husky. Several females are watching him already.

He is good looking. 

_But none like another._

"Shut up," I mutter to my thoughts, rubbing my head.

"Si," Devon says, watching me. "Are you okay?"

"Peachy," I mutter. "Let's dance."

Devon smiles but shakes his head. He points toward a nook where some people are sitting. In the dim light I cannot make out who it is, and I realise I don't care.

I want to dance.

Shrugging, I get up. "All right."

Devon gets up too and gives me a hug. Being enveloped in warm arms almost makes me have a breakdown but I manage to keep my emotions in check and only smile at my friend. "Don't leave without me," he says.

"Sure." Turning, I head right into the dance floor, wanting to cry and sob as I begin a slow dance, to an equally slow Latino beat.

When will I ever be free? I admit, I have looked for him, although not as strongly as I should. I could ask Incia to search for him – but the truth that I wish not anyone involved. 

This is my trouble.

Dancing hard, I manage to put my troubles out of my mind for a simple few minutes.

Then suddenly the music changes, becoming more of an insistent, urgent beat and it reminds of home, of Africa that had the same drums running through its veins.

I stop right there in the dance floor and put my hand against my forehead, swaying on the spot. Inwardly, I can see my mother's smile, see her scolding my little sister. I smell the deep, earthly smell that always seemed to surround her.

And the music, oh my God, the _music_. It seems to possess me, drive me insane. It will.

_I can't take this!!!_

Longing like I haven't experienced for thousands of years sweeps over me, and I feel like crying, screaming and for a moment I wish I was a witch so I could blast the DJ from his cage high up in the air.

_The memories…_shutting my eyes, I sway, wishing for Devon.

_No! I wish for Drake Blackthorn._

_Where are you, you jackass? Why aren't you here?_

_Where are you???_

And then, by some miracle that seems greater than cosmos itself, warm arms wrap themselves around me from the back, electricity crackling up my spine as a voice – oh dear God, that voice! – says mesmerisingly, "Here I am."

Oh. Dear. God.

My heart beats so hard and loud I think it will jump out of my skin, and my hands start to shake. He's clasped them in his own hands, and then I turn.

_Oh._

His eyes, those eyes! Black with golden specks stare down at me, and a smile curls those luscious lips.

"You wished for me, my lady?"

~*~

He'd noticed her the moment she'd appeared at the door, standing on those stairs like a reincarnation of Nefertiti, the intensity in those brown eyes capturing him all the way in his dark little corner. He'd put the glass of warmed blood down slowly, completely losing the thread of the conversation he was having.

Her hips had swayed seductively as she'd stepped down those stairs, the little scrap of fabric she was wearing making her look so good.

Drake had watched her, leaning back into the dark as she walked across the dance floor. There was something about her, some sort of fragility coated in steel that only he seemed to be able to see.

And then, after only long seconds, the questions had started tumbling around his head.

Why was she here, now? Where had she come from? He'd gone to New York to look for her, but he'd failed in finding her. Everywhere he'd turned, something was blocking him. He could bet it was the remaining members of the Triad she was part of, that Devon Silverthorne; with the soulmate that seemed to be able walk on water. As a witch he knew it was wise not to cross _her_. And Topaz with the Daybreaker for a soulmate, she was in it as well.

_They'd_ been stopping him, but how was he supposed to get to her and explain that? Their reach seemed to get so far, and even he, a Night World Lord, had had trouble.

And then he'd had to appear at this infernal drivel, _stuck here_.

But now…now there she was, looking as unearthly as his dreams for the past months.

Oh, but he'd missed her.

Those lips that had kissed his neck…the hands that had hugged so him fiercely and seemed to be able to deliver both pain and a caress so sweet and innocent…

_Yesss, he'd missed her._

His eyes dilated to show huge black pupils as he saw the guy that'd touched her, and his anger was so great he had to practically push himself back against the couch before he leapt up and made a fool of himself.

But she dealt with it. He smiled as he saw her reaction.

Then he'd lost that smile as he saw the way she'd greeted that Devon guy. Acid rolled in his stomach as he watched their brief conversation.

What was he laughing about?

Then she was dancing, and Drake lost all pretences and got up, enjoying the sight of the way her body moved. He started toward her, intent on taking this chance.

Then all of a sudden, a punch of memories hit him and they whirled around him, leaving him breathless as he stopped. 

She seemed to be having so much of a more trouble, leaning over as she swayed. He feels her pain and his eyes closed for a moment, hearing her scream out his name.

_Where are you???_

Damn, he thought, breathing and swallowing as he forces one food in front of another. 

_I'm here. _

Now it just depends if she wanted to him.

But he reaches her and – unable to stop himself – he wraps his arms around her, noticing her shock that flared up as he grabs her hands. Just in case she tried to kill him.

"Here I am," he mutters against her ear, unable to stop himself from placing a kiss against her neck. He feels her shiver, then turn with a flourish, _those eyes_ fixed on him.

Keeping his emotions hidden, he glances down at her, smiling sardonically. 

"You wished for me, my lady?"

_~Lips that cling and kiss and are fire and ice  
~And I play with my life as if a dice_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~end~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Review, ****s'il vous plait?****Please do!!**


	10. Chapter Nine

****A Lost Tale****

**Disclaimer:** The Night World is owned by Lisa Jane Smith. Characters are regularly spat out by the freak show known as my creative mind.

**Rating:** The reason I have put one of these in here is because this is an action story. There's lots of fighting, moderately bad language, but only because of the impact it has. Please don't read this if you know you are too young. You have been warned.

**Author's Note**: Hi. *shrieks while she dodges sharp knives* Okay, okay! I'm sorry it took forever to get this out, but a lot of bad stuff has been happening I had to work through. Including that there was work so my weekends were gone, exams so my evenings were gone and hey, I need sleep! Anyway, I apologise a thousand times for the huge delay but now I have holidays so I can work it out. **Thank you so much** to those who reviewed! To **Penguin, Nerian**, **Raquel**, **Sharmeen** and **Medusa Descoudres**, thanks cannot say it enough. You are all **FANTASTIC**! You make this story work, really you do. I hope all my readers forgive me for taking this long as I solemnly promise to try and never do it again! **Please** continue **reading and reviewing**, because that's what makes me carry on. Even if you're too lazy (ahem, busy) to write a review, just a few words of praise will do (*grins*). And if you're kind enough to offer a few words I will sing your lavish praises for aeons to come.

Anyway. One with the next part! Hope you enjoy this action! One question: are the cliffhangers bothering you guys? I was just rereading over this and I saw how many there were. Honestly, they seem fine to me, but you are the readers so tell me if I should stop. And you'll have to read if there is another cliffhanger here *grins evilly*.

**Enjoy!!**

****A Lost Tale********

**Chapter Nine**

_"You wished for me, my lady?"_

I dont know how long I have been staring at him, my eyes so wide I am sure my eyeballs will pop out any second. 

Is this real? Or am I dreaming? Is this yet another fantasy from which I want to wake, only to want to fall back into?

He pulls me closer and then – wonder of wonders, am I awake? – his lips descend on mine.

_Oh, this is gooooood._

Brilliance the colour of a cleaned sword explodes into my mind, and a shiver-soft mind suddenly encases mine. A thousand murmurs start up and all I can do is lean against him. I want to leap on him and rip all his clothes off, and at the same time I just want to continue this caress of his lips on mine.

Oh. Reality is so much better than fantasy.

Finally, many long – minutes? Moments? Hours or years? – later his head lifts and his eyes bore into mine.

My heart is beating so fast I think it'll give up any second, then Drake smiles a smile so sexy it would turn any females to mush.

Fortunately, I am not any female. Anger so strong it makes me see red roars through my body, and in a fierce rush I direct it at him, bunching it all, then throwing it in a sort of mental bazooka.

It hits him like a powerful punch and he inhales sharply, his eyes dilating for a second. He almost staggers back but catches himself. In that moment of weakness I tug at his hands, meaning to free myself.

Drake keeps a steely hold on me. 

Then he straightens and fixes me with a glance of eyes that have gone completely black. He smiles sardonically.

"Very good," he murmurs, drawing his hands around my waist and pulling me flush against him, and immediately I'm pressed against a body as hard as a tree stump – a body I've dreamt about for weeks now.

How strange. I want to press closer, yet run screaming from the room. 

I compensate, and try to pull back. Drake only lifts an eyebrow and refuses to budge. "Let go of me," I hiss quietly.

He tuts. "Come, come. You don't want to draw attention to yourself, do you?" His eyes take on a hooded look as they travel my body from head to toe, pausing in several choice places. "Although…wearing that dress…attention will be one that thing that wont be missing." He finally draws his eyes back to mine, and at that moment I snap. But I dont scream – I know he is right about the attention thing.

Instead I do one thing better. 

I smile sweetly, catching him off-guard. Then I step on his toes. Did I mention I'm wearing five-inch heels? With a satisfied grin, I hear three of his toes snap. I slam a barrier over the soulmate link just in time, feeling the pain that was rolling down to me stop. 

To his credit Drake doesn't stop smiling. He just lifts his foot slightly off the ground and shakes it loose. Then I hear the bones popping into place.

Damn. He heals faster than me. Although, I suppose his witch-powers have something to do with that.

Then he laughs. A rumble that rolls through his body and sets off a dangerous chain-reaction through mine. "Touché," he murmurs. Suddenly he pulls me closer, twirling me. It is by sheer will power I dont lose my balance. I straighten and glare at him. "What the hell do you think you are doing?" I hiss.

"Dancing. We are on a dance floor, right?" he is all innocence. I turn and stalk off. Seconds later I feel him grab my hand and he pulls me back. The DJ has started playing a tango beat and Drake places his hands on my waist.

"Don't—" I start just before he dips me so deep I feel like my back will break. Then he snaps me up and suddenly I am twirling. 

_Wow. He is a really good dancer._

I stamp firmly on that thought and stop spinning. Does he want to play this game? 

Fine. 

I sashay back to him, clapping my hands like the dancers do in the streets of Mexico. Drake has lifted an eyebrow and is watching me with a hungry expression in his eyes. I grin a seductive smile as I stop in front of him and do a slow turn so he can see the whole of me.

Then I spin and go into a simple one-two-three step, my body one seductive sway of muscle and vampiric grace. I dance closer and spin around him, grabbing his shirt lapels and pull him close enough to kiss.

But I dont. I just dance away again.

I dance like I've never danced before, enjoying the dance, enjoying the way Drake looks completely thunder-struck, enjoying….

Enjoying everything.

Then – with a final spin that leaves me a little breathless and lifts my skirt high – I stop. 

He is still standing there watching me, his eyes hooded. It is only then he takes a stop toward me. But I am faster. I shoot Drake a smile and stalk off. 

Then the music fades and I realise what I was doing.

Panic slams into me, hard and fast, and all of a sudden, I'm running, dodging dancing bodies and reaching the stairs. I spring the five steps straight up, landing like a cat. The door is already open and I shove whoever is coming through out of my way, then shoot past the guard who is being harassed by some vampire chicks, who give me all dirty looks.

Usually, I would have hurt them horrifically, but I am being chased by my psychotic soulmate, so I let it go.

Instead, I run up the stairs, taking the steps five at a time. My panic increases at each leap and bound and by the top I am gasping for air. For a moment I stand undecided, then I feel a faint tug at the soulmate link. 

With a shocked gasp I slam a barrier over it, knowing he will use it to sense where I am.

Frantically, I look around, then run left. Behind I hear the basement door slam open.

_"Sierra!"_ A voice growls in my mind.

_"Leave me alone!"_

Shit. I shouldn't have said that. Now he knows where I am. I let out a frustrated growl as all I encounter is a long, empty, dark hallway filled with doors. And all of them are closed.

I try each one with a growing sense of panic, knowing that if I dont find an open one _now_, he will find me. And although he won't risk hurting me I dont know what he wants with me. The look in his eyes promised an eternity spent in a cage, ensuring I dont trouble him nor get myself killed. 

I'd rather died.

A triumphant gasp leaves my lips as a door opens in my hand. I quickly step in and close and lock it, then back into the room. Gods, I hope he doesn't find me.

I turn and survey the room, wondering whether I can make a quick quick-getaway. My night-vision shows me everything. It is a bedroom—

_And there are two forms in the bed!_

I leap back with a shriek as one rises like the Headless Man – or woman, I see as the light is flicked on.

"Si?" A familiar, half-sleepy voice enquires, and then I see two glittering topaz eyes looking at me. I stare as she stands from the bed, motioning to Amrick to put his gun down.

Placing a shaking hand over my heart I attempt to calm it. "Topaz," I say, trembling. "I never want to see you half-naked again."

She grins, then pulls on a shirt and a pair of pants. When I turn to face Amrick he is also tugging a shirt on, keeping his pyjama bottoms on. There are bears on them.

"Cute," I comment. He bows and leaves, after a glance from Topaz signalling we need some quiet time. I am about to shriek _not the door_, when he walks out through a painting in the wall. Good. I could not bear it if Topaz's soulmate was hurt because of me. She is about to suffer enough pain.

"Si," she murmurs softly as she sits back down onto the bed. "What is going on?"

_"Sierra Rion!"_

The mental voice slams into me with all the velocity of an enraged bull and I sink to the floor under the sudden pain. Gasping, I clutch at my head, trying to keep myself from fainting. Instead, I promise myself I will tear him to pieces. As soon as I stop running.

Tremblingly, I stand, then notice Topaz staring at me curiously. She rubs her eyes slowly, then asks in a surprised voice. "Sierra, what was that?"

And with those words my panic slams back. It clutches at my veins, sinking ice water into them, freezing my heart. It shrieks in my ears, demanding attention, demanding I _surrender_ – and I have to grab Topaz's arm to stop from falling again.

"That is Drake Blackthorn," I gasp. 

"The guy who threatened you?" Topaz says mildly. Then suddenly her eyes started snapping and she straightens, a feral look coming into her eyes. "Is he?"

"Please, help. He's after me." I know I should feel like a coward saying this but I only feel like I'm going to die pretty soon. Topaz grabs my hand. "Is that the guy who threatened you?" she says slowly, her voice so icy even I shiver. I have never heard her like this. It seems not only I love my friends.

"Yes," I nod.

"Why?"

For a moment, I debate, then I hear footsteps in the hall and I decide. "He's my soulmate," I blurt. "And, and – I dont know what the hell he wants, but he's dangerous, Topaz. And I know you can take care of yourself but – but, please dont get yourself killed for me."

Down the hall I hear a door splinter open and my eyes open wider. "Now I have to go."

Topaz's face has gone so emotionless it is scary. "Come," she says and I shudder as I hear the hollow toneless-ness of her age in her voice. Do I sound that scary when I forget myself?

She grabs my hand and leads me toward the balcony. With a single push the doors are opened and she shoves me onto them. Then she hugs me fiercely. "Jump," she orders.

She turns and flicks the light on. She pulls a bag out from underneath the bed and draws a crossbow out. At hearing my panicked gasp, she turns and grins scarily. "Don't worry, I wont kill him. Just cut off a limb or two," she adds thoughtfully, checking her weapon works.

When she turns back around and sees me standing there, still gaping at her, she scowls. "Did I not tell you to jump?"

I open my mouth to say something – and realise there is nothing left to say. Instead, I take off my shoes and grab the railing. I am on the ninth floor – which house has nine floors?

_Dear Gods, dont let me die._

I launch as I jump, tensing my body for the fall, really wishing I hadn't worn a dress toniiiiiiiii—

I land hard, my scream dying in my throat. I turned in the air so I land on my forearms, rolling around to absorb the shock. Still, I hear my right wrist and four fingers on my left hand splinter very definitely.

I howl softly with the pain, wincing as I straighten. Crouching I shiver at the agony, my pupils dilating. Growling, I push the pain away, then stand.

Or try to. I sink back down with a definite howl. Okay, I was wrong. My ankle has snapped again. 

It is another full minute before all my bones have _clicked_ into place and I straighten cautiously, staring up at the house fearfully.

What did I do to Topaz? More importantly, what is Drake doing to her?

I close my eyes, battling fear and indecision.

Then an image emerges.

_Topaz and I, a thousand years ago. She is dragging an unconscious me from a fire, a fire that had been a set-up some who wanted the Two dead. An arrow is protruding from her arm and she is cursingly close to exhaustion – yet she is dragging, doggedly._

And as I open my eyes I realise I can't leave. I turn and take a step toward the house, wondering how I can get back up there without racing through the house.

A sudden, loud booming noise makes me shock and look up. The balcony I jumped from is smoking, and a chair flies out. Then a couch. Then a bed. At each item I have to dodge and my eyes are opening wider and wider.

What the hell is going on up there?

Then a body staggers out and I see a flash of black hair as he straightens. "Listen, vampire. I dont want you. Just tell me where she is," he growls.

Topaz walks out onto the balcony, laughing softly. "I dont think so. You have to get through me first."

Drake doesn't even let her finish. He launches a punch at her that she dodges, a kick she jumps away from. Then he twists his fingers in the air and she is caught up in a shimmering haze of gold.

Outrage bursts forth from me and I step forward, just as Drake launches Topaz off the balcony.

The frightened shriek lodges itself in my throat as Topaz does an incredible body twist, mid-air. She grabs the edge of the railing and flips herself up onto the next floor. For a moment she disappears from view, then she leans back over. I hear her mocking laughter. "Come on, surely the great Drake Blackthorn can do better than that?"

Drake sighs and grabs the railing. But before he can perform the same trick I step forward.

Time to stop running.

"Drake," I call, almost feeling Topaz's astonishment. My love's – and I say that with regret – head twists so fast toward me I feel it should break. His eyes bore into me from nine floors away.

In that moment I push all my regret, longing, fear, love – and yes, there is lots of that – away and face him. Dramatically, I lift my arms.

"Here I am," I say, my voice carrying a weird sort of hollowness. 

"Come and get me."

Drake stands there for a few seconds, no doubt trying to guess what my trick is. Oh, it is no trick, I think, willing him to hear me. I just want this over with. I want my life back.

Then he jumps, straight down, looking impossibly like a graceful panther. 

And for the briefest moments, I wish it could work. I wish we could stop fighting. I wish we could be like Topaz and Amrick. 

But he is already hitting the ground, landing like a cat, his black shirt fluttering in the night air.

Then he straightens and watches me. "Sierra," he says. "You really are a hard girl to get a hold off." He laughs softly and shakes his head, then sweeps a hand in a gesture that encompasses everything. "This is getting monotonous."

"Oh, shut up and lets get this over with," I snap, unable to stand the shivers his voice are provoking in me.

He is surprised, but stands to attention. He shrugs, then, and says, "Okay."

And I push away the voice that protests at the fact that he didn't. Instead, I get into a fighting position, emptying my thoughts. Tonight, it'll end. 

Either way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~end of part nine~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~#

**Please review! I'll love ya forever! Please? Please?**


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